Echo, Goddess of the Shore
by FirstDaughterOfGaia
Summary: This has been reposted, as I was not happy with the original. Meet Echo, born a common half blood; a Daughter of Poseidon, who becomes Goddess of the Shore. How did that happen? This Fan fiction is in progress. Rated M for sexually explicit scenes.
1. The End of the Beginning

_Note: I do not own Percy Jackson, nor any of the characters related to it. I would like to point out, however, that only the invention of Percy Jackson, Camp Half Blood and other half bloods belong to Rick Riordan. The Gods and Monsters belong to the culture of Ancient Greece, a place held in high regard amongst history. I do, however, own Echo. She is of my own invention and I do not wish for any other to use her. I have not profited from this fan fiction._

Echo watched Annabeth carefully; her ice blue eyes filled with both concern and worry. She lurched forward with her inhuman grace and speed as Annabeth fell with a soft moan. She knelt, cradling Annabeth gently. Percy got to his knees beside them, checking out her injured arm, before shouting out for help. Athena and Apollo looked over immediately. Apollo's bright eyes lingered on Echo as she brushed stringy blonde hair from Annabeth's sweaty face. He walked over, with his dazzling grin.

"God of Medicine, at your service." Echo watched the Sun God with an odd look in her eyes; certainly not one Percy had ever seen her wear before. Apollo muttered an incantation and swept a bronzed hand across Annabeth's clammy face. She instantly began to look better, her bruises clearing up, cuts and scars healing. Her broken arm straightened, making Annabeth groan slightly. Echo's hold on the young girl tightened as she made her discomfort known. Apollo smiled.

"She'll be fine in a few minutes..." Percy smiled. "Thanks, Apollo." Apollo grinned, and looked up to Echo, staring at her intently. Echo looked up and their gazes locked, with a certain degree of reluctance from her. She shook gently, her eyes suddenly softening and she looked down at Annabeth, lifting her as she stood. Annabeth's eyes fluttered and she awoke with a slight exclamation. Echo set her on her feet gently, allowing Percy to wrap an arm around her waist to steady her, which made Annabeth blush. Echo gave them both a secretive smile, before leaving to tend to the wounded with copious amounts of Ambrosia and Nectar.

The next few hours were a complete blur of activity. The Gods repaired their thrones with a speed that was rather awe-inspiring, whilst the half bloods cared for one another, healing and welcoming more warriors as the bridge between America and Olympus slowly rebuilt itself. Tyson made his way to Percy the same time Echo did, and there was welcoming affection between the three siblings. Tyson hugged both Echo and Percy in a hug that could have crushed them both, Echo kissed her brothers cheeks tenderly.

"You will do well, Perseus Jackson. My brother... You will go far." She said, with a frightening degree of finality. Percy frowned and opened his mouth to question her, when a conch horn sounded and she stood, pushing her long black hair into her net of pearls; her object of immortality. Her eyes were sorrowful. Poseidon strode into the Throne room, his trident glowing in his hand, and looking as young as Percy remembered. He went immediately to his children and embraced them each in turn. As he turned to Echo, Zeus' voice roared across the room. He had taken his throne and the other Gods were following suit. "Well, Poseidon? Are you too proud to join us in council, my brother?" Zeus held Poseidon's gaze challengingly. Poseidon looked to his children and winked. "I would be honoured, Lord Zeus." As with that, the Olympian Council convened.

The demigods stood solemnly, awaiting the verdict of the Council. Echo watched the Gods with a burning ferocity. Her eyes were completely focussed; her hand kept wandering to her hair. She smiled slightly as Tyson received his award, and laughed when he asked for a 'stick'. She almost glowed with pride when Annabeth was able to finally pursue her dream of making something that would last for aeons. She was even slightly surprised when Percy rejected the immortality offered to him. Her confusion however melted away when she witnessed the heated glance between himself and Annabeth and she smiled, immediately melancholy. She glanced at Apollo, and saw him watching her. She blushed slightly, regally, and looked away.

"Echo, my daughter. Come forth." Poseidon's voice boomed across the hall, but the voice was soft, tender. She walked forward, the blue, torn silk of her skirt swirling around her legs, her golden breast plate smeared with blood and monster dust. Her face, however, was beautiful. Her expression was that of a princess, aloof and distant, but the lines etched into her face showed just how much the battle had taken its toll on her. Her expression was one of overwhelming sorrow and her eyes revealed her pain. She curtsied to Zeus and knelt down in front of her Father, as was the custom. Zeus regarded her with concern, but Poseidon looked almost frightened.

"Rise, my Daughter." She did so, but could not look into her Father eyes. Athena frowned. "I sense there is something this tortured soul wishes to tell us. Echo... you have never been one for holding back. Say what you mean, and speak freely."

Echo looked up, first to her Father, then to Apollo. "As you wish." She spoke with care, as if it was something she had thought about much, but that which pained her. "Father, I am the Eldest of the Immortal Heroes. I have killed so many, and fought for so many causes. I have watched my friends and comrades fall. I have watched entire civilisations wiped out by the destructive nature of the human race. Now, I fear my time has come. I cannot fight anymore, for I have lost the will. The souls that I rip from this world still come back to haunt my sleep. They drain me in my nightmares and I fear I will go mad. So, it is with great regret and with great relief that I give up my immortality, for I can no longer abide by the terms of it. I will live among Camp Half Blood for the rest of my Mortal days. I shall grow old and eventually pass on, and have my Lord Hades pass judgement on my soul. I... I am sorry, Father. I am over a thousand years old, but I can no longer do this."

Poseidon watched his daughter with grief etched into his face. He closed his eyes, as if in great pain. Zeus, to everyone's surprise, also looked hurt. Percy and the other Heroes could not quite understand, and their protests were lost in their confusion. "Are you sure you wish to do this, Echo?" Zeus asked; his voice impossibly soft.

Echo shuddered slightly, looked to Apollo once more, and nodded. Apollo looked in shock, as if he could not quite understand what had just happened. His bright eyes had widened and his handsome face looked as if he has just been clubbed by an invisible force. With shaking hands, Echo took her net of pearls, glowing with power and immortality, and removed it from her head. Her long black hair, never seen down before, fell, tumbling down to her lower back and she slumped, as if suddenly drained. Her knee buckled and she had to put a hand out to stop herself from collapsing on the cold, cracked, marble floor. Apollo finally awakened from his shocked reverie, and stood.

"I cannot let this happen. Echo, please..." He walked over to her, and grasped her elbow to steady her. She almost fell into him and he embraced her. She made no attempt to move, as she normally would. "I'm sorry, Phoebus... I can't do this anymore, I just can't. I have been immortal for many years, but now I just can't do it." She sounded close to tears and Poseidon looked away. Apollo looked heartbroken. "Echo... I have loved you for 700 years. I know, somewhere deep down, you love me too." He grasped her face, and wiped a single tear from her cheek. He then kissed her forehead. "You know I am right." He said with a hint of his usual cockiness. She smiled slightly. "Yes." Apollo rested his forehead against hers. "Then you know I can only live in misery without you." She chuckled, tiredly. "Always the poet..." She whispered gently.

Apollo looked intently into her eyes, his gaze fierce. "Stay with me. I don't want you to be an Immortal Warrior... I want you to be my Immortal Wife." He stood, though never wandering far from her. "I don't think anyone here can say Echo is undeserving. Perseus Jackson will not be joining our ranks today. I propose the gift of Immortality should be passed on to his Sister. She has served us for over a thousand years. She has killed for us, and worked for us. She has never abandoned us. I propose to the council that this woman becomes a Goddess... Immortal in her own right." Echo looked disbelieving, but both Zeus and Poseidon smiled.

"Those in favour?" Zeus' voice boomed across the vast silence. As she dared to look around, Echo saw that every single Council Member had raised their hand. She almost fainted there and then. Apollo smiled and lifted her up into a hug, kissing her neck. "My Goddess."

Poseidon chuckled. "If I may be so bold, I wonder if I could fill her title. I have just had a thought." Zeus grunted and shrugged. "I wish to make you Goddess of the Shore, my Daughter. Where the Earth and the Sea meet, and where the Sun always shines." Echo laughed outright, still enveloped in Apollo's arms. "I would be honoured, my Lord." Zeus smiled slightly, looking at Apollo fondly. "Demigods, I must ask you to wait outside. You will not be able to see Echo's divine form." The demigods, including Percy and Annabeth, reluctantly left, leaving only the Gods.

Echo looked around, hiding her nervousness. "So what do you wish me to do?" Poseidon stood and walked to her, shifting to his human sized form as he did so. He simply held out his hand and indicated that Echo should take it. Apollo reluctantly let her go, and Echo walked to her Father. With a deep breath, and no second thoughts, she took his hand.

She could never quite remember what happened after that, only that she felt the light that encased her, and changed her. The ecstatic feeling as her blood, previously that of a human, was replaced by golden Ichor. Her whole body tingled with power and as she opened her eyes, she could see the other Gods had changed into their divine form. She had never seen such beauty or their auras of power so dazzlingly clearly. Her senses had become amazingly acute, and she could feel this connection in her gut, like she could feel every wave that crashed into the sand on the beaches of the world... Of her own realm. The power she felt was amazing and she had never quite felt this way before.

Apollo walked to her cautiously, and as she turned to greet him, they both took an intake of breath. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and there was a fierce pride in her heart that she could now call him hers. As for her, although she didn't know it, she held a beauty rivalled only by Aphrodite. Her black hair was crowned with a golden circlet, with a single pearl resting on her forehead. Her black hair glittered with lustre, her wide blue eyes held the depths of the sea. Her body was now smooth and held no scars from the battles she had fought. She wore a long flowing skirt of the finest blue silk, hanging from a thick golden band hanging on her waist. A blue silk belly top, with long bell sleeves encased her top breasts and shoulders, leaving her smooth, toned belly on show. The sleeves were embroidered with tiny pearls and golden thread. Her tattoo, that of her trident, her sign of loyalty to her Father remained on the small of her back. She was simply stunning. Her father held out her hair clip, now golden rather than silver and she held it as it elongated into her Trident. She gasped in amazement. It was amazing, with floral patterns on the long handle, crafted with unerring skill. The head was dazzling, sharp and beautifully crafted. She smiled and flicked it around and drew it at Apollo's throat. It was a move that she used often, but when she used it against Apollo, it was faster than even Ares, who let out a low whistle. "I don't think there's any argument that she's a warrior Goddess."

Apollo smiled, pushing the Trident away with the tip of his finger. He took it in his hand and it shrank into her hair clip which he then put in her hair, his hands lingering in her dark river of curls. She smiled and, in front of everyone, he kissed her. It wasn't their first kiss, but it felt like it. Their new bodies responded in an odd way, and only Echo's extreme self control allowed her to break away. She blushed Apollo laughed lightly, changing into his normal form. Echo concentrated and followed suit, her beauty dimming but slightly. Apollo took her hand and led her out to the demigods; Echo frowned slightly and looked back to Zeus. "My Lord?"

Zeus frowned and looked back to Echo. "Yes, Young one?" Echo bit her lip. "I know you've done so much for me today, and I've really appreciated it. But I would ask one more thing of you." Zeus raised an eyebrow. Echo continued while her nerve held. "I wish to join Dionysus at Camp Half Blood." Dionysus chuckled wryly. "You want to join me at that damn Camp?" Echo nodded solemnly, looking to Apollo and smiling slightly. He nodded at her. Zeus nodded with a smile. "Well, when Dionysus' time is through, they'll need someone. Maybe that should be you." Echo smiled and curtsied, looking to Percy and Annabeth who were positively beaming at her. She winked with a smile.

Apollo came up and took her hand. She blushed slightly, but allowed Apollo to pull her away from sight. "It would seem you will only be my Goddess by night." Echo smiled, her finger tracing his jaw line. "You are always busy by day, anyway, my Sun God. Where I am without you seems insignificant to me, but I may as well spend it training young heroes." Apollo chuckled. "Zeus help us, we'll have an elite soon." Echo smiled and kissed him once more. "I hope not. But I hope that I can train them to defend themselves. And I can keep an eye on your kids." She said with a wink. Apollo smiled seductively. "I don't think they'll be any with_ mortals_ any time soon." Echo laughed outright with a light blush. "Well, I hope you will! They need their archers and healers. The Apollo cabin is much more important than you seem to think." Apollo took Echo into his arms and kissed her deeply. His hands roamed freely over her back and stomach, and she moaned very, very softly. With a strained frown, she stopped him. "Not yet. I love you, but I've waited 700 years for you. I can wait until we're finally married." Apollo grimaced but Echo silenced his protestations with a short kiss. "Come, I want to see Percy and Tyson. To be honest, if I stayed here with you for another minute, my decency is going to go out of the window." Apollo raised an eyebrow. "I'm not complaining." Echo hit him playfully. "Behave, Phoebus!" She chuckled and strode out to her brothers.

She got a hug from Tyson and found what was once crushing was now pleasant. She kissed Percy's cheek. "Well, we should get back to Camp, right? There's plenty of work to be doing, what with building the new cabins and everything. Of course, I'll have to speak to Dionysus about it, but I don't think he'll complain if I'm overseeing it. He'll be happy playing cards with Chiron, who I understand, is still recovering?" Percy smiled and nodded, Annabeth absolutely beaming beside him. "And I thought you were going to abandon us?" Echo smiled softly. "I've never forgotten my friends, or family. Ultimately, we're all related and I couldn't just abandon you to Mr D, could I?" Annabeth smiled. "No, you couldn't." Echo smiled as Apollo came up behind her, hooking a protective arm around her waist. Echo winked at Annabeth and grinned, getting a blushing grin back. Percy tugged on her arm and the heroes left to make their way to camp. Apollo frowned and squeezed Echo's waist. "Come on, let's go to Camp." Echo frowned and cocked her head, but before she could say anything he continued. "I'm the God of Prophesy. Something big is going down at Camp." Echo frowned, worried. Apollo grinned. "Want to try teleporting?" Echo bit her lip. "Sure..." In a blaze of light, Apollo was gone. Echo smiled and concentrated on her destination, fading into a fine mist of sea spray and light.

Echo's POV

When I opened my eyes again, I was standing at a place I knew very well. The shore lay out before me and I knew I was at Camp Half Blood. Standing, my bare feet in the sand, the sea washing over me, I felt more powerful than I ever had in my life. I felt like I could literally take on the world. I breathed in deeply, feeling the air make me more powerful. The sun shone brightly, and I suddenly realised how tanned my skin now was. Apollo cleared his throat behind me and I spun to face him. "I thought I'd find you here." He said amusement clear in his voice. I felt that wave of indescribable joy sweep through me. I looked at Apollo and I couldn't help it, it rushed through my veins of its own accord. I gestured to my newly bronzed skin.

"I thought sun kissed was merely an expression?" I said, with a challenging glare. He winked. "Only the blessed are truly sun kissed." I rolled my eyes. "Only you could be so modest." I grinned and walked past him. "Did you know sarcasm is irony's stupid cousin?" I turned to face him, but found I could not argue. He winked again, as if he knew he had won the argument. I chuckled, speechless before a strange feeling pulled me to look at Peleus. I frowned and began walking. Peleus was unravelling around the tree and growling a warning to a dark Pegasus I instantly recognised as Blackjack. I ran to Peleus with urgency. I could simply _sense_ there was a Mortal on his back, and that mortal could very easily be killed by Peleus. My speed startled me, as I sped through the camp with the speed of the wind. I got to Peleus and jumped on his back, as I have done plenty of times before. As soon as he felt my presence he cowered and lay back on the floor with a slight whimper. I reassured him with a scratch behind the ear and soft words. He purred softly, before closing his eyes to settle back to sleep. I ran to the Big House and called out to Blackjack. He began to descend and eventually landed in front of me, I exchanged a confused glance at Apollo, who simply shrugged his handsomely sculpted shoulders. Rachel Elizabeth Dare was sat unsteadily on Blackjack's back. _Sorry, mistress! Weren't my fault, she made me do it! _I sighed.

"It's okay Blackjack." I held my hand out to Rachel and she took it gratefully as I helped her off of Blackjack's back. "Thanks... What happened to you?" She asked curiously. I smiled. "Long story cut short, I am Goddess of the Shore." Rachel widened her eyes and smiled, hugging me. I was startled by the gesture, but smiled and held her gently. Apollo came to us, and looked directly at Rachel. "I know why you've come." He said in a slightly stern voice. Rachel detangled herself from me, but didn't go far away. I'd protected her before and she trusted me. However, despite her obvious fear, she looked up to Apollo without flinching.

"I have come to become the Oracle. The curse placed by Hades has been removed, I just know it has. I was born with this sight for a reason. I was born to do this." She said quietly, her glare burning. Apollo smiled. "I know. Come along. You'll know what to do." He walked up to the Big House and looked directly up to the window, where the crumbling Oracle lay hidden in wait. She dropped to her knees at the Porch Steps and raised her hands to the sky. She sat still. I went toward her, but Apollo held me back. "Don't..." He gestured to Chiron, on a stretcher on the Volleyball court. Argus was close by. I rushed to him and knelt down.

"Ouch..." I murmured, looking at his sling, bandaged head and two back legs in splints. I chuckled. "Haven't we been here before, after the Battle of the Labyrinth?" Chiron smiled gently. "Yes, I know. Godly Immortality suits you." I smiled, blushing very slightly. "You were very brave, standing up to your Father like that." I said quietly. I needed him to know that people did care about him and what he did for the young heroes. I just didn't think anyone truly appreciated him. He sighed. I smiled, not wanting him to be uncomfortable. "It's okay. I just thought you should know we do appreciate what you've done for us." I smiled, before looking up to Argus. "Percy and Annabeth will be arriving at the Shore soon on Hippocampi. Can you go greet them?" Argus smiled and nodded. He left, his eyes still watching us until we were out of sight. I looked back to Chiron. "Well, you should know Rachel is here. She's trying to become the Oracle..." I said, a worried frown creasing my forehead. Chiron winced as he tried to move. I put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him down. "You shouldn't move. Maybe Apollo can speed up your recovery, but you can't move right now." Chiron grimaced. "I invited herm but maybe I shouldn't have. May... Last time..." I held up a hand to silence him. "Last time, Hades put a curse on the Oracle. I... I think that maybe it's lifted." He stared at me sternly. "... Maybe?" I sighed. "I... I wouldn't let her do it if I thought she would be hurt. I don't think Apollo would either."

I looked up at Apollo and Rachel and my stomach churned with nerves. I didn't know what was going to happen. For the first time since becoming a Goddess, I felt fear.


	2. A Trip to the Past

_Note: I do not own Percy Jackson, nor any of the characters related to it. I would like to point out, however, that only the invention of Percy Jackson, Camp Half Blood and other half bloods belong to Rick Riordan. The Gods and Monsters belong to the culture of Ancient Greece, a place held in high regard amongst history. I do, however, own Echo. She is of my own invention and I do not wish for any other to use her. I have not profited from this fan fiction._

_Okay, this is set in the Roman times; during the Reign of Octavian. I actually worked to make this very realistic; Horatia and Pollio are real people as far as I am aware. I read about Horatia and her pain with Pollio and wanted to work with that. My main source on this is 'Cleopatra's Daughter' by Michelle Moran, and is a brilliant novel. I would recommend it to anyone. Any questions, just ask and I will reply to the best of my knowledge. Here are some definitions._

_Capri is a place along the coast of Italy where rich merchants would go to escape the sweltering heat of Rome. Pollio's Villa was much bigger than most and could house over three thousand; mostly slaves._

_Palatine was a section of Rome where the wealthiest patricians (Rich merchants, senators and the Ruling family) lived._

_Plebian's, or Plebs, were members of the lower classes._

_A Praetorian was a Soldier that specifically protected the ruling family_

_The Silphuim Plant was believed to be an herbal contraception._

_Ornatrix is a Slave Girl proficient in hair styling and make up._

_Umbraculum was the Roman term for an Umbrella, or parasol to protect from the heat._

'_Domina' is the feminine term for Master, the masculine being 'Domine' and the plural being 'Dominus'._

**Oh, and I'm warning you now. Scenes of a sexual nature? This chapter is guilty. ;)**

Horatia stood alone on her Portico watching her Husband, Pollio, waddle off into the distance. Tears sprung to her eyes as she thought of him. She hated him. He was old, far older than she, but she had been married off to him at 13 to gain prestige for her family. Pollio was a vile man and she had always hated him, even before she knew she was meant for him. He was a very wealthy merchant; it was true, with a massive, sprawling Villa in Capri and an enchanting place on the Palatine in Rome. She should be perfectly happy, for she had made a marriage worthy of one in the ruling family. She lived in the comfort and style befitting her husband.

And yet...

Horatia was now a woman of medium height. Her long black hair was luxuriously combed by her slaves each morning and came to her lower back. It was often down, and many of the Plebian women commented on it as she walked through Rome with her guards. Her eyes were startlingly dark, those of a Roman, and held a great deal of beauty. Her looks was the only reason Pollio had chosen her and she knew it. She had always dreamed of being married to a dashing young male; a great Soldier, maybe even a Praetorian, in his armour and his red cape. She had imagined the solemn departure, the long, painful wait and the passion homecoming in the leave of a Soldier more times than she had cared to count. Yet, her family had given her to Pollio. She despised him with a fiery pit that welled deep inside her stomach and festered deep inside her soul. He had taken her on their marital couch for as long as she could remember; however much she tried to forget, and then left to have a slave girl. She drank from the Silphuim plant to prevent any pregnancies, but the amount of slave girls she had had to send away because they were pregnant with her Husband's children had reached 53 now. Her crystal clear mind had remembered it because of the tears of their families as she had had to separate them. Her slaves hated her, but there was nothing she could do. She could only endure. It was all the women could do. She would wait until Pollio finally died and be remarried to a different man of her families choosing.

Horatia passed a dark hand over her face, coming away wet with sweat. It was the middle of June. They were due to leave the sweltering heat of Rome on the first of July, as they were to feast shortly after with the ruling family, Octavian, his wife and sister. Most importantly Julia Claudii was going to attend; Octavian's daughter and a close friend of Horatia. She sighed, uncomfortable in dwelling on such negative thoughts. She went inside to the spacious Atrium, where the Slaves fell over themselves to get away from her sight. She straightened her tunic of the deepest green, which complimented her dark features. Her Emerald jewellery simply furnished her elegant beauty. Her stomach suddenly began to feel restless and her eyes flicked around her home, around the stunning mosaics and startlingly sculpted frescoes. Something deep inside her was pulling her into the depths of Rome, and it almost frightened her. The pull was electric and to not follow it was almost painful. She snapped her long, slender fingers and her Gallic Ornatrix, Faustina, rushed to her side. "Fetch my Umbraculum. I wish to leave for the Forum." Faustina curtsied gracefully. "Should I get your Escort as well, Domina?" She asked, staring at the floor. "Not today. Today I wish to be alone." If the pretty, young slave girl was surprised she did not show it but simply rushed away to do her Mistress's bidding. Horatia watched her with a mixture of fondness and sadness. Faustina was her favourite slave and Horatia had made sure her Husband did not know about her. She didn't know how long she could do it, however, and she knew she must treasure Faustina's friendship for as long as she could. The slave girl rushed back, with a satin Umbraculum, and handed it to her Mistress, who smiled.

She took it, opening it up against the burning sun and wordlessly walked out of her home and onto the dirt road leading into Rome. She sighed, effortlessly weaving through shouting Plebs, grumbling centurions and old, gossiping senators. She did not know where she was going, but the 'pull' was guiding her. She suddenly stopped, staring up at the Temple of Neptune. She stepped into the cool marble temple, which smelled of sea salt. It was strangely empty, but she automatically knew this was where she was supposed to be. She sighed and took a stick of incense and set it alight in a burning, bronze brazier. She set it at the feet of the statue of Neptune, God of the Sea. She prayed silently for a blessing, one that would make her life just that little bit better. She frowned slightly at all the injustices she had had committed to her in her life and all those she had committed to others. All of the troubles, the weights the world had seen fit to place on her shoulders, seemed to suddenly come out in tears. They flowed freely, silently, as she let all her woes out at the feet of Neptune, a God she didn't even believe in. Suddenly, the smell of the sea filled her nostrils.

"Do not cry, my Pretty One. You should not cry."

Horatia looked up, startled to see a handsome young man crouching beside her. He spoke with a Grecian accent that surprised her. She scrambled back, almost tripping over her rich, silk tunic. "I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come in here..." She stuttered, but the man put up a hand to silence her and such was his authority that she did indeed lapse into silence. "Come with me." He said simply, standing and holding a hand out to her. She almost argued for a second, but something stopped her. She looked up at him. He looked young, with a chiselled jaw line and strong features. He dressed in a toga virilis, so he was old enough to be married, but nothing indicated that he was. Thick black hair curled at the nape of his neck. His skin was paler than the normal Roman and that, added with his accent, made her think he was originally from Greece. His green eyes, however, were what drew her to him. They were... Odd. They changed in the light and she was transfixed by them. Almost mindlessly she took his hand and he pulled her to her feet with no effort. Deciding not to relinquish her hand, he led her to a back room of the Temple. It was a lovely little room, obviously for one of the Priests of Neptune. He led her to the couch and sat down on it. Normally, Horatia would have refused to sit in a man's chamber, on his couch no less, but something about this man made her feel safe and secure. He watched her as she sat demurely on the silk surface and smiled at her. "Now, tell me. What is it that bothers you?"

Horatia hesitated; her worries were that of a woman. She had never yet met a man who had ever understood the pain of any woman, let alone her own. She bit her lip and something compelled her to look into his eyes. That flash of safety rushed through her once more and she knew in that moment she had never met a man like this. Before she even realised it was happening her worries were spilling from her mouth in a icy tsunami of woe and fear. The tears were once again spilling, but silently, for she was a strong woman that came from a good family of pure lineage. The man simply watched her and nodded understandingly. When she finally stopped and wiped her tears away shakily, the man put comforting hand on her knee.

"You have suffered so much for someone so young, Horatia."

Horatia blinked, suddenly unsure as to whether she had actually revealed her name. She sighed impatiently at herself. Of course, she must have. How else would he have known it? She gasped. "Oh, I am sorry! I have beguiled you with all my tales of woe and yet I still don't know your name, although you know mine." She said, with a soft smile. He chuckled in a husky baritone that sent little prickles of desire down Horatia's spine. "I have gone by many names. However, I prefer Poseidon." Horatia nodded, unable to do much else as lust slowly crept into her body. She had never lusted after anyone quite as badly as she did at that moment and she struggled to keep her emotions in check. He shifted closer to her and her eyes widened in alarm and anticipation.

She had always been a good, faithful wife to Pollio, even though she had never wanted him. She had been taught from a young age to place her honour as a woman even higher than her life and she had never dared to go against that; but suddenly she wanted to abandon it all just to have this man. She didn't want him to be the big 'what if' in her life. She wanted to be able to experience true pleasure. She wanted to be swept off her feet. So she smiled and took the biggest risk she had ever taken in her 18 years of life. Poseidon placed a hand on her cheek, shifting even closer to her. "I hope you do not mind me saying, but this husband of yours... Pollio? I do not think he deserves a woman like you. I have never met someone quite like you before." Horatia blushed, before looking up provocatively.

"Would you deserve a woman like me?" Poseidon looked taken aback before relaxing and giving her a slow chuckle, pulling her even closer. "I don't know, Mistress. Why don't you tell me?" Horatia leant up to his face and pressed her lips against his, her heart thudding in her chest. The thrilling feeling when he kissed her back rushed through her veins as Euphoria and desire took her and he pushed her down onto his couch. His strong chest pressed against her breasts as he lay on top of her, his strong thighs pressed either side of her hips. Slowly he slid his tongue into her mouth, not something she had ever done before. She gasped, but slowly began to grasp the concept. As their tongues met, Horatia felt the need and want build up between her legs. She moaned slightly with longing, earning a smile from the man on top of her. He slowly brought his hands up her sides, sliding smoothly across the silk of her tunic. He reached the pins at her shoulders and slowly unclasped them. She smiled as he pulled away and gave her a sexy grin, before removing the pins from the folds of material and placing them by the side of the couch. She giggled, the knowledge that with a simply pull she could be in only her loincloth and breast band beneath him made her giddy. Poseidon smiled, as he slowly began to remove his own clothing, eventually leaning on top of her in only his loincloth. His excitement was easily visible and Horatia could feel herself getting wetter in anticipation for him.

Slowly becoming impatient Horatia began to pull down her tunic inch by inch. When Poseidon caught sight of her he growled slightly and bent down to kiss her again, sliding her tunic down himself and eventually helping her to kick it on the sea blue mosaic floor. He pulled away again, marvelling at the woman beneath him; the dark contours of her body, the long curving lines, writhing beneath him with her obvious desire. Her breathing was becoming faster and he revelled in her lust. He let his hands run over her body and listened to her moans as her body reacted to him. She grasped at his hair and pulled his lips down to meet hers once more. She smiled, her whole body felt as if it were on fire with passion as she let her nails gently rake his back, earning a little nip on her lip. She smirked. He bit her lip again, eager to get revenge. He slowly let his left hand run down her body and trace small circles on the inside of her thigh. She bucked her hips slightly, but was held down by Poseidon's strong thighs. His fingers slowly pushed the loincloth aside slightly and the tip of his finger slid across her soft, damp curls softly. Her eyes flew open and she gasped suddenly for air. Poseidon chuckled, and slid two fingers into her core, probing and exploring sensually with the digits. Horatia arched her back, letting her head lean backward and her hair spill like a fountain on the couch. Poseidon began to explore deeper and deeper, until Horatia could feel herself brimming to a climax. As Horatia released, Poseidon withdrew and kissed her with renewed vigour, positioning himself above her. Horatia kissed him back in a fever, wanting him inside her so desperately she didn't know how to control herself. Pulling his own loincloth off, Poseidon knelt above Horatia, who finally saw his body in all its glory. With a primal instinct and not really thinking about what she was doing, Horatia leant up on her elbows and took Poseidon into her mouth, pressing her tongue against the shaft and sucking in an upwards motion very slowly. Poseidon's intake of breath and his obvious shiver to her touch was enough for her to continue. She slowly began to build up the speed and increase the suction before Poseidon pushed her back onto the couch with a firm but gentle strength. With a single, fluid movement he plunged into her and she gasped at the size of him. He held still, not oblivious to her pain, and kissed her gently whilst allowing her to adjust. She nodded slightly after a minute or so, and Poseidon began to move inside her. Horatia's breathing once again began to quicken as she felt the ecstasy build, even more than before. She hadn't ever believed herself capable of the pleasure she was feeling and suddenly the risk was worth it. She felt Poseidon grip her more firmly and he leant down to kiss her with an urgency that forewarned her of his forthcoming climax. Horatia pulled his head down and kissed him deeper, increasing the speed and power of the steady rhythm. Poseidon responded with enthusiasm, pressing against her and quickening the motion even more, but remaining gentle. Horatia spread her fingers as the tingling pleasure erupted throughout her body, washing over her. She felt herself reach climax, and felt her Lover tighten his hold around her as he climaxed as well.

They lay together once finished, sweating and panting, still wrapped in each other's embrace. Poseidon regained his breath first and tenderly kissed Horatia on the forehead, before standing and dressing. He looked at the naked woman on his couch and grinned, as she smiled and sat up. He motioned for her to wait before dressing and went into a side room, coming out with a deep basin of lavender water. He washed her himself, sliding the water over her and allowing it to trickle between her breasts, kissing her wet shoulders. Finally he dried her with some fresh linen, smiling and touching her all the while. She smiled as she dressed, carefully replacing her pins and her long, black hair, slightly damp and arranged fetchingly around her shoulders. Poseidon smiles, almost in a melancholy fashion, and Horatia caught it. "Poseidon? What is wrong?" Poseidon caught himself and smiled, stepping over in a few long strides to wraps his arms around her tightly, pressing her to his chest. Horatia blinked rapidly, holding back tears. "Will... Will I ever see you again?" Poseidon looked down at her and nodded. "Yes. But it may not be for a while, my Brave Lover." Horatia nodded, holding her chin up. "As long as I can see you, I do not care when it is." Poseidon kissed her tenderly on the lips. "I shall count the days. Now, close your eyes." Horatia thought it strange, but did so. Poseidon released her and stepped back, before stopping. Horatia heard no more movement from him and frowned slightly. She heard the small sigh of the wind, maybe an open window, and her eyes flew open. She was alone. She spun around, but Poseidon was nowhere to be seen in the little room. Oddly, nor was there any open windows or not even anywhere any winds could escape. She walked out, confused, picking up her abandoned Umbraculum and looking briefly at the statue, where her incense was still burning furiously. She froze, startled. A tingle fell down her spine, as she looked into the Statue's eyes.

They were the eyes of Poseidon.

_Okay, firstly I'm sorry about the wait. My Muses do NOT work mortal hours, I'm afraid. I know this seems completely off topic, and I'll be interested to hear your theories. Please review! Thanks for all the people who have done so already! You're, like, friends of mine for life! ^^ _


	3. The Beginning of the Aftermath

_Note: I do not own Percy Jackson, nor any of the characters related to it. I would like to point out, however, that only the invention of Percy Jackson, Camp Half Blood and other half bloods belong to Rick Riordan. The Gods and Monsters belong to the culture of Ancient Greece, a place held in high regard amongst history. I do, however, own Echo. She is of my own invention and I do not wish for any other to use her. I have not profited from this fan fiction._

_Thanks to all of the people who have reviewed, I really appreciate it. A special thanks to IoriKonaN and Not Sorry. Both reviews really helped me to get my ass into gear, so thanks guys. I am sorry it's rather short though. :) As to Horatia and Poseidon... I guess you'll have to wait until the next chapter. ;)_

Echo's POV

I blinked, shocked, letting the words wash over me once more.

"_Seven half-bloods shall answer the call,  
To storm or fire the world must fall,  
An oath to keep with a final breath,  
And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death.'_

I rushed to Rachel, where Nico and Percy were laying her on the porch. I took her easily into my arms and felt her forehead; the skin was feverish to my touch and my look of worry must have shown. "I'm all right." She said, attempting a weak smile. Percy was quick to ask what her premonition was; a question I think we were all thinking about. With a sigh, Apollo came to stand next to me. "I believe we just heard the next Great Prophesy..." He said, looking at Rachel thoughtfully, who was still rather weak in my arms.

I heard Percy begin a conversation with Apollo, but I wasn't really listening. I had come to terms with the fact I was going to be mortal, that I wasn't going to have to go through this again. Now, I was finding myself in the position where I was more involved in the fight than I had ever been; even more than when I was the Head of the Immortal Heroes. Now if the Gods were destroyed... Well, I **was** one! That was going to take a long time to become accustomed to.

I sighed, and Rachel looked up to me, concerned. I smiled and helped her to her feet, although she was still leaning heavily on me. Apollo looked stern. "But right now you need sleep! Chiron, I don't think the attic is the proper place for our new Oracle, do you?" Chiron shook his head. "No, indeed." I'd had Apollo work a lot of healing on him, so he was looking a lot better than when had first seen him; though he'd be in splints for a couple of weeks. "Rachel may use a guest room in the Big House for now, until we give the matter more thought." Apollo's eyes lit up and he started talking about a place in the cave, decked out with electronics and I rolled my eyes. I could sense Rachel wanted to talk to Percy so I released her. She stumbled, but caught herself. I wandered over to Apollo and chuckled, taking his arm and walking to the Big House. Rachel followed us shortly after.

I walked into the Big House, past my own room and opened the door to a spacious room. The walls were washed white, and the floor was wooden. There were French doors that opened to a Balcony outside. I went to open the window, the white floating material of the curtains blowing around me as the wind caught it. I smiled. "For now, clothes wise, we are the same size. You can borrow some of mine, but tomorrow I will take you out and we'll get some new ones. It'll have to be a short trip, though. We must give the dead proper rites, heal the wounded and I have to clear the planning on the new Cabins. There is... much to do." I gestured to the bed, against the far wall. It was a four poster, its curtains matching those at the doors. The duvet was fluffy and comfortable and I went to the door as Rachel wandered in. "Thank you." I smiled and nodded once. "Sleep in those clothes; I'll bring you more in the morning. You look exhausted." Rachel gave a wry half smile and nodded, wandering over to the bed and getting in. I closed the door and looked up at Apollo, sighing slightly. Apollo smiled and took me into his arms, enclosing me into a space of safety and security. I leaned my head on his chest and thought to myself about all these new developments. I shook my head and sighed, leaning up to kiss his perfect, bow shaped lips. It brought me comfort; as I suspected it would. No matter what happened, I had Apollo... and as long as I had him, that was fine by me. I shifted against him and he looked down. "Are you worried?" I shrugged slightly. "I guess. I... I don't want to have another war so soon." Apollo smiled. "I think we have a while to worry about it, my Sweetheart. Don't worry about it... Well, not yet anyway." I chuckled. "That's reassuring. Thanks." He smiled and released me, and I walked into my room.

It was blue and I had fashioned it to look like my room when I was child. Apollo blew out softly. "Wow. This takes me back about... Three thousand years." I chuckled. "It makes me feel... At home." I sighed and ran a slender finger down the marble bust of my Mother, her black curls and her dark eyes. I had kept it in perfect condition, and it was one of my most treasured possessions. Without it, I was so scared I would forget what she looked like, the curve of her jaw, her thin eyebrows, her long dark eyelashes and the gaze that had always reassured me I was wanted by at least one person in my childhood. My eyes began to tear up, and I turned away quickly. "You miss her, huh?" Apollo asked softly and I nodded. "I miss her more than anything in the world." He walked toward me and gently wiped an escaped tear away with his thumb. I realised that Apollo had never experienced the sorrowful, regretful side of me before; the one that wished I had been mortal, had married and had children like a normal human. But I was not. I was a demigod and our lives were never, ever easy. Now I was a Goddess, I wondered if things would get any easier.

I sighed and sat on my couch, my silk skirt spewing around my legs as I leaned back on my hands. Apollo strode over and sat beside me easily. He kissed my collarbone with gentle, butterfly kisses. Slowly his lips moved down onto one of my breasts and I smiled, laughing slightly. He then travelled to my nose and kissed it gently. I kissed his forehead and looked out the balcony; more and more demigods were crossing over the border. I saw a crease in Apollo's brow as he saw one of his Sons, being helped heavily by one of his Daughters and Katie, Head of the Demeter Cabin. Concern, Worry and Love sparked up in his eyes, even as I watched. I hated it when people presumed that because the Gods weren't permanently attached to their children, they felt nothing for them. As I watched the pain etched across Apollo's face, I instantly knew that it was a load of bullshit. Hermes had always loved Luke. He was just powerless to prevent his Fate. Gods made the biggest sacrifice for their kids; by not being involved they were actually helping them survive.


	4. The makings of an Epic Heroine

The Uncertain Beginnings of a Heroine... 

_Note: I do not own Percy Jackson, nor any of the characters related to it. I would like to point out, however, that only the invention of Percy Jackson, Camp Half Blood and other half bloods belong to Rick Riordan. The Gods and Monsters belong to the culture of Ancient Greece, a place held in high regard amongst history. I do, however, own Echo. She is of my own invention and I do not wish for any other to use her. I have not profited from this fan fiction._

_Right, I feel I must apologise. I've been very busy lately, doing A Level and other things, I just haven't had time to write. But, finally, here is the fourth instalment. You should thank Antknee502 for not having to wait even longer. I hope this quenches your hunger. It has a few surprises. Thanks guys. I'm really looking for constructive criticism, what you like what you don't... Please review. Maybe even PM me, I don't mind. Thanks again, guys._

_-Sophia_

Horatia frowned, her bronzed, slender hand covering her stomach, trying to quell that sickening feeling. She was on the boat on course for Capri and although relieved to get out of the sweltering heat, she was also sad to go. She had been making trips to the Temple of Neptune everyday in the hope she would see Poseidon, but she had not glimpsed him, not even smelt him. She was worried, not for his safety, but for her own.

She was well aware she was pregnant, and she knew it was not Pollio's. She was of a tender age; there was no assurance she would survive the birth, but there was no way she would be able to get rid of it... Her baby. The very thought caused bile to rise from her stomach and pool into her mouth. She had not told anyone, but she was sure, Faustina at least, had guessed at her condition. Horatia had been trying to run over the situation in her head. She was sure no one would guess what had happened, so they would presume it was Pollio's child. This was vital, although, personally, Horatia did not want her child to bear her Husband's name. She found the thought of it revolting. She had decided that she was to tell Pollio that night, the first night they were to dine at Capri. She hoped it was a boy, for if it were a girl, Pollio would not accept it. Tears sprang to her eyes. She would pray to Juno that it was boy. No... She would pray to Poseidon.

Even after the months since they had been together, Horatia was still not sure if the man she had laid with was a man at all, but a God. The way he appeared and disappeared, how he seemed to know her name, how the eyes on the Statue matched his perfectly... All the evidence she had thought about whilst Pollio had pulled her to him in the night, when she was forced to greet guest after guest, when she was commanding the servants who hated her. The truth was she never really thought about much else. And yet the seed of disbelief in the back of her mind niggled at her thoughts. She had never believed in Gods. She had thought the whole notion ridiculous. Now she didn't know what to believe.

The boat finally reached the shore, and then litters carried them to their spacious villa in Capri. Horatia was courteous, charming and feminine with Pollio. She wasn't sure what his reaction to her pregnancy would be, and she wanted him to be pleased with her when she revealed it. Would he be pleased enough not to try and beat it out of her? She had stood, shaking, in front of a slave to stop him doing just that once, before she had met Poseidon. She had been terrified, and had paid for it that night when he climbed on top of her; forcing himself inside her while covering her mouth so the slaves couldn't hear her scream. Her Ornatrix at that time, Espona; named after a Goddess from her homeland, had struggled to stop her bleeding the next day, and she was unable to leave her couch for three days. Pollio had told their guests that she had a fever as an excuse for her absence, but Julia had come up, suspicion and pity in her eyes. She had sat with Horatia, holding her hand and trying to make sure that Horatia couldn't see her weep at the sight of the blood covered linen and bloodied water.

As soon as they reached Capri, Horatia went to her chamber and changed into a beautiful tunic of the most gorgeous silk. It was pale blue, contrasting brilliantly with her dark skin and complementing her eyes, almost of the same colour. As she wanted to look her best, she added a Sapphire necklace Caesar himself had given her for her wedding and a matching pair of earrings from Julia. She had known Julia had coordinated that, and it still made her smile when she put them on. She wore black leather sandals. She looked down at her stomach, trying to determine if she yet had any bump. She finally decided that she had not yet, but that was not to say she wouldn't soon.

She finally made her way down to the first triclinium, the one they used for just them, rather than guests. As it was their first night, they would eat alone, but the very next day they were hosts for Caesar's family, and she had admitted to Pollio how excited she had been to see Julia again. The first triclinium was small, and when Pollio had decided it was not good enough, he commissioned another that took a 15 minute walk to get to, as it was all the way on the other side of the villa. When he had commissioned that, he had also commissioned an eel pool to be made in the season they were gone, and had ordered the slaves to retrieve the eels from all across the coast. Of course, this was dangerous and they had lost 5 slaves to it. She herself avoided the pool, determined not to look into the writhing waters of dark, oily skin, and white teeth, as it gave her tiny bumps of fear all up her arms.

She had a slave wash her feet before entering the triclinium before she reclined gracefully at the table, lying down and using her right arm to lean on. She waited for her husband to arrive, and arrive he did, 10 minutes later. His piggy eyes lit up with lust when he saw his slender, beautiful wife waiting for him, looking as she did. She could not eat without him and as soon as he entered she waved her hand to the slaves so the food would be brought in. She simply ate a few oysters and some salad, watching her husband gorge himself. They spoke of inconsequential things, like the merchant business her husband ran, the new fashions in silk, the epic defeat of Egypt under Caesar and of Marc Antony's suicide. They spoke of the dead Kleopatra and of her twins who had recently been living with Caesar's sister, Octavia. Finally, the conversation lolled into a comfortable silence, while Pollio ate Offelae; cooked dough with garlic and herbs. Horatia cleared her throat and her husband looked up at her.

"Pollio, I believe I am with child."

She closed her eyes and winced, afraid of the blows that may come. When they did not, she opened them to see Pollio staring at her in disbelief. Finally he grunted.

"About time, I suppose. How long have we been married?"

Horatia bit the inside of her lip. "A couple of years, I believe."

Pollio nodded. "Well, I am glad we are seeing Caesar tomorrow. It will put us in his favour to think we waited for him to be the first to know."

Horatia smiled, hiding her resentment that he was using her baby to get higher on the political ladder and closer to Caesar's family. But then, she was not surprised, for he had been using her for that since they were married. After that, they did not speak of it. Pollio took her to bed that night as he always would, and Horatia thought it was just her imagination that he was gentler with her than he would be normally.

_The next day..._

Pollio left early in the morning to meet with a Merchant along the coast line. Horatia knew it was for business, but she didn't know the specifics. After she broke her fast, she left the villa to walk among the natural beauty of the coast. Since she had been pregnant, she had felt much safer, secure by the sea. It was beautiful and made her feel grounded, grounded aside the whirlpool of politics, favour and forced beauty of her life. She stood in the breaking waves, slipping her sandals off to feel the wet sand and breathing in the sea air deeply. She knew why it comforted her, and memories of him rushed into her head. His touch on her skin, his finger tips running along her arms, his lips on hers, on her collarbone, her stomach... She smiled and sighed, letting the smell consume her.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Horatia spun around, startled into speechlessness. Before her stood the man she had just been thinking of, the man she had been praying would come back to her, the Father of her child.

"Poseidon..." She breathed. The sound was barely more than a whisper, sensual and erotic to Poseidon with her accented voice. Unable to bear the distance between them, he stepped forward and pressed his lips to hers, in a passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her into him as she responded even more fiercely than he expected. After a time he pulled away, breathless, but kept her in his arms.

"Oh, I missed you so, Horatia. Horatia, my love." Horatia leant into his neck and kissed it once, twice, three times.

"I missed you too." She said, her thoughts a whirl of surprise, happiness, lust and curiosity. Poseidon smiled down at his young lover, and immediately saw the question in her eyes. His smile faltered and he let her go, walking past her into the tide.

"You are wondering, no, what I am? I knew you were too smart to fool, but you are so beautiful... I needed you." He murmured, to himself as much as Horatia. Horatia simply stood and let him speak; she knew what to do in these situations. She was brought up by nobility. He clenched and unclenched his fists, as though he were nervous. Horatia watched as the muscles in his upper arm and forearm bulged and relaxed. "I am a Greek God. We do exist, although I knew you thought otherwise. We are still powerful. The Romans adopted us, changed our names, though we prefer the originals. You would know me as Neptune."

Horatia closed her eyes and nodded; glad her suspicions had been affirmed. She let him continue.

"You know I cannot see you often, or for long. Today I came not to explain things to you, but to warn you." Poseidon turned and, as gently as a Father with his child, placed his hands on her currently flat stomach. "Children of the Gods, Half Breeds, Demi Gods, they attract things. Horrible things. For now you are safe. You will stay safe until the child is about ten years old. I will ensure that. In turn, I need you to ensure our child can defend themselves. Sword fighting, archery, anything. I need you to do this for me, for our baby."

Horatia eyes widen during Poseidon's warning. She didn't expect this. Her eyes teared up but his shushed her, kissing away her escaped tears. "Our child will be powerful, unlike the likes of anyone you have seen before, that I promise you. I just need you to make sure they learn." Horatia's powerful maternal instincts kicked in quickly and she nodded. "Nothing will befall our child, Poseidon. I will make sure of it."

He smiled and kissed her again. This kiss was gentler, more tender. She wrapped her arms around his neck but did not draw him closer. She realised she wanted no more than this man, and if she could only have him every so often... Then the memories would have to be enough. She accepted her lot, there and then, and while she embraced her love she decided that everything had been worth it, just for that one night.

_8 Months later..._

Horatia screamed, sitting on the birthing seat. She could not bring herself to describe the pain. She could not think clearly, but she could think more clearly than she ever could. She wailed as she dug her nails into the wood of the birthing chair, naked. The midwives worked to soothe her, pressing rags of warm water against her sweating skin, but nothing could calm her. She wished her Mother were here, but the birth had been so sudden and her Father had not allowed her Mother out at such short notice. It was cold outside, winter was turning to spring, but snow still covered the streets of Rome thickly. It was warm in the room, but Horatia was not sure if that was from her fever. She was in too much pain to think about it too clearly. Tears covered her cheeks as she gave birth with no one around her that she loved, no one to comfort her. She felt, in that moment, utterly alone. Fur was draped over her naked shoulders and she leaned her head back to scream out again, feeling the soft fur against her skin.

Beneath her, through the hole in the seat of the birthing chair, Horatia could see a mess of blood and water. The midwife down there was cleaning it up as she went along, but it kept on coming. She kept bleeding and bleeding until she convinced herself she was going to die.

"_Keep going, my sweet Horatia, carry on..."_

Horatia blinked, and looked around frantically. Although Poseidon was not anywhere to be seen, she swore she could hear him mutter words of love and encouragement. Her look of worry and fright turned into one of determination. She pushed, screaming in agony as she did so. She continued this for hours, and whenever she thought she would give up hope, Poseidon's voice stopped her and told her to carry on, she could do this. She thought the labour would never end, until finally she felt something give and heard a wet sound and, a second later a sudden cry.

"Domina, Domina! It is a boy, Domina!"

Horatia smiled weakly, watching her son kick and cry in the Midwife's arms. He was covered in blood and mucus, but he was beautiful and, most of all, he was hers. He was her baby. She was about to reach out for her son before she doubled over, once again in pain. The midwife frowned and quickly checked Horatia's entrance.

"Push, Domina! There is another baby in there, Domina! Push!"

Horatia widened her eyes. Twins weren't unheard of, but they were very rare and it was rarer still that both babies and mother would survive. She cried out, wailed, screamed, did everything she could. She leaned back and once again screamed, giving one last push and she heard another wet sound and another cry. She gripped the birthing chair and cried, looking at the midwife to see her second baby.

"Domina... It is a girl."

Horatia smiled and leaned back, finally relaxing. She was alive. Gentle hands washed her and did what needed to be done. They guided her to a room and changed her into a tunic of exquisite peach and lead her back to her children. Both inherited her dark hair and their Father's eyes. She smiled. She picked them both up into her arms and kissed them on the forehead.

"Welcome to the world, Perseus and Echo."


	5. Blood Red Shore

Shadows of the Past that Haunt the Future...

_Note: I do not own Percy Jackson, nor any of the characters related to it. I would like to point out, however, that only the invention of Percy Jackson, Camp Half Blood and other half bloods belong to Rick Riordan. The Gods and Monsters belong to the culture of Ancient Greece, a place held in high regard amongst history. I do, however, own Echo. She is of my own invention and I do not wish for any other to use her. I have not profited from this fan fiction._

_Hey guys... Once again, I'm sorry about the late update. I'm really getting into this now, as there may be a little bit of a plot twist here... I have A Level, and I'm coming up to my exam period, so I can't really update as often as I like. I know it's a long time coming, but June time; I'll have no excuse not to update, as I'll be looking for a Job. Sorry, guys, but that plus my other Fictions, it's the best I can do. I hope you enjoy this, I certainly enjoyed writing it! PM if you want a certain God, Goddess, or any character in. I just want you to enjoy reading. :)_

_Just so you know, certain parts of this are rather graphic... And not in a sexual way either._

_~ Sophia_

**Echo's POV...**

I finally walked wearily into my room. Normally, I'd be exhausted, but I was still getting used to this Goddess thing. As it was, I'd been awake for nearly three and a half days, working on various blueprints, helping with the constructions and over viewing the building that had been taking place since our last stand. I had been welcoming new arrivals the Satyr's were bringing in, in a steady trickle. On top of all that, I had helped create shrouds for the Dead and burned them. I think that had been the most difficult and exhausting part of all of it. More Dead to bury, more people to mourn. It was taking a lot out of me, and it had taken all I had to keep composure as Sirena, one of the bravest Warriors I had ever met, was slowly set alight, leaving the faintest smell of Designer Perfume. Clarisse had fallen to a heap on the floor, sobbing. It was so unlike her, even Chris had been taken aback but he held her, comforting her even after the rest of the Campers had left. After all this, I was feeling simply weary.

Sometimes, I was taken by surprise by how powerful I had become. Sometimes, it frightened me. I sighed, and without even pulling my silk Chiton off and into a corner. I released my long, black hair from its tie, enjoying the still surprising feeling of it cascading down my back. I smiled with faint satisfaction, and quickly tucked myself in on my couch, curling the silk sheets around me. I closed my eyes, expecting sleep to envelope me quickly. I didn't, however. I slowly came to realise the worry gnawing away at my stomach. I knew what it was, but I had been trying to ignore it. I didn't like what it meant, what I was becoming.

I had not seen Apollo in days... Or should I say nights. I would know if anything happened to him, but nothing had. Surprisingly, this made me even more worried. Apollo was, I knew, fickle. What interested him one day bored him the next. I frowned and brushed it from the forefront of my mind. I reasoned with myself that it was ridiculous, feeling how I did. If he wanted me, he would come. Yes, I knew, even as I thought it, that it was half hearted. Phoebus Apollo, even with his cocky attitude, lack of manners and staggering good looks, had stolen my heart. I sighed and threw my sheet back in frustration, getting off my couch and walking down to the shore.

Even as I went, I knew something was wrong. I began to speed up when I heard the faint rasping in my head and the surge of fear and powerlessness wash over me. Without me realising, I was running at full Goddess speed. When I got to the Shore, I suddenly stopped and tears flooded my cheeks. Porkpie lay on the beach, the sea washing his blood away. I rushed to him, trying to sooth the frightened, dying animal. I was dismayed, devastated at his death, but as I looked closer at his bloodied, trembling body, I became blindingly furious. I'd originally thought it was an animal attack; it wasn't the first of its kind... It was rare, certainly, but not unheard of. A Pegasus simply grazes, unaware of the Hell Hound waiting to pounce on it. That's was I suspected.

Now, I could see how Porkpie's wings had been pierced, to prevent him from flying away to escape. How his back legs had been hit by a blunt object to break them, and render him helpless. When he had hit the floor, his eyes had been pricked, to blind him. His wings, half attached to his back, half ripped off had been pulled so hard, the bone had been broken in three different places... Finally, I saw how his chest had been slit open, all the way down his body. I tried not to look at what was on the sand. I saw all this in the Pegasus' frightened mind; but the thing that broke my heart was Porkpie was trying to reassure me, trying to make me feel better. I was devastated and he knew it. He was trying to soothe me, despite the fact he was bleeding out and the life was slowly draining from him. He was trying to reassure _me_. I searched Porkpie's flickering mind, searching for the culprit. All I found, the only thing Porkpie saw of the person who killed him, was the flash of a silver sword, with a leather hilt. It was standard; there was nothing special about it. I held him, desperately holding back tears; I leant down and whispered vehemently in his ear;

"You will find Justice, my friend. I promise, on the Spirit of my dead family... I will _**kill**_ whoever did this to you."

I lay down, next to the Pegasus' battered body, stroking him and whispering in his ear. I stayed with him, until he drew his last, shuddering, painful breath. As I felt the beloved animal beneath my trembling fingers die, I felt a surge in my gut. The Sea batter the shore violently, flinging sand and sea spray into the night air. I shook with grief and anger and my tanned skin began to glow sporadically was I tried to keep a hold of my composure. Someone in my camp had done this. Someone I knew, someone I had responsibility over had killed Porkpie, and I was awash in complete and utter rage and devastation. I picked the corpse up in my strong, yet violently shaking arms, feeling blood spreading over my chest, arms and neck and with a certain degree of concentration, I teleported back to the big house. I laid the body on the porch, pausing a second to stroke his brow, before walking into the big house.

Of course, because the Fates love playing cruel games with me, as I was walking in Apollo was walking out, obviously in search of me. We bumped into each other, but shock had made me weak and he knocked me back. I fell to the floor. I looked up at him, not knowing what to do, but I had no inclination to get up. Apollo's face visibly went through the stages of being ecstatic to see me, to disappointment at the look on my face, to serious and extremely worried when he saw the slick, fresh blood coating me. He knelt down beside me, and it wasn't until he had his hands over my chest and down my arms that I realised he thought it was my blood, and me bleeding. It was about then that I wished I was. It would be easier to cope with that than my feelings, which were in complete and utter turmoil. I know Humans wouldn't understand what I was feeling. In the 3,000 odd years that I have observed them, I have watched them, slowly but surely, lose their reverence to any kind of life but that of their own species. They may feel compassion for species less fortunate than them, and I prayed to the Gods that this did not, too, slip away... But they had lost the ability to feel the heart-rending loss that I felt at that moment. I was in shock at that moment, but the realisation was beginning to hit me. It was hitting me most of all, not only because of the brutality of the attack but because I was not expecting it. I had never experienced a loss that was not a result of being attacked, or war. I had expected all the deaths that were close to me, in a sense. But this... It was raw and cutting, and the grief was going to soon explode out of me.

I held my hands up to Apollo and said, in a small voice; "Don't. I'm not hurt. It isn't mine... It isn't mine." Apollo looked confused, but relieved and he pulled me to his chest. I didn't resist and I did not answer. I needed this. I needed someone to hold me, to be there for me, if just for a minute. Before I even realised I was doing it, I began to cry. Why? Why, after the War, when we had suffered so many losses, was I reacting like this? The truth was I didn't know, and my confusion just heightened my emotions. Suddenly I was letting out gut felt sobs, shaking my entire body. Apollo took me into his arms, and tightened his hold around me protectively. I felt that feeling radiating from him; that Godly revenge that promised fire and blood to whoever had made me feel this awful. I had felt it coming from him once before. Slowly, I began to calm down, to recover myself. Once I had, once I started thinking clearly, I felt completely stupid, dull and unable to cope.

I pulled away, partly because of my own embarrassment, partly to wipe my eyes. I did not offer an explanation, but continued to clean myself up. I felt Apollo's eyes burning in his bright gaze, as I transformed before his eyes. It was something I had learned as a child, more often than not at the hands of the man who called himself my Father, where I turned myself unemotional and hard, so I could deal with the things I needed to cope with. I bottled whatever it was that I felt before and I stored it away to deal with it later. I took a deep breath, and spoke in a steady firm voice;

"Porkpie, a Pegasus who helped us in the War against the Titans, has been slaughtered on the beach." I stood and walked away from him. I gut, my whole being wanted to bury myself back into his arms and never let go, but I somehow resisted the urge, even though I didn't want to. I wanted to cry and be weak, for once in my life, with the man I loved. But I couldn't. I owed that much to Porkpie. I had to find out who had done this. Apollo followed me silently until he saw Porkpie's body. Like me, he had seen much worse things, things even I couldn't imagine, but there was something about this that put a saddened, hard look in his eyes. Maybe it was because Porkpie had been so innocent, and even in Death, purity radiated from him. Maybe it was because we had thought the bad times were over and camp was safe. I didn't know. Either way, I was scared, angry, hurt and confused. I bit my lip, tearing my gaze away.

"We need to get Chiron up, and deal with the body. Then, first thing in the morning, I am calling together the War Council. I need to account where everyone was last night..." I cursed loudly. "I should have checked the woods! Porkpie was still alive when I found him, which means I probably interrupted whoever it was! They must have been there in the woods! I'm so stupid! Gods, I'm so blo-"

I was interrupted by Apollo. His gaze was still on the broken corpse of Porkpie. "You were in shock. This is..." Words seemed to fail him, and I thought I saw a tear on his beautiful cheek. "Horrific. Anyone would have been. You shouldn't be blaming yourself for this. There is no need to. Whoever did this, in the care of the Camp or not, will be held accountable. If the Campers don't kill them before we do... This going to cause great unrest, especially as it one of our own, so be cautious." Apollo finally looked at me, and his eyes softened. "Oh, my Love. I should have been here. I should have been with you. I've left you too long." I tried to hide the hurt in my eyes, but I must not have done a very good job as he came over to embrace me. I hugged him loosely back. I just wanted this sorted so I could sleep. I just wanted to sleep. He seemed to pick up on this, as he picked me up gently in his strong arms, and took me up to my room. As he laid me on the couch, I protested, albeit feebly.

"No, Echo. You've been through enough and you need some sleep. I will sort it out with Chiron. I'll be back. I promise you, Echo, I'll be back."

After that, I drifted in and out of a fitful sleep. I heard lights and hushed voices but not much more than that. I dreamt dreams of terror, silver swords, Hell Hounds, the Chimera and my Mother's Husband.

And throughout all of this, the light, cheerful and happy God, Apollo, my fiancée, held me solemnly as I cried, stirred and shouted out in my sleep.


	6. The Start of a Legend

The Twins...

_Note: I do not own Percy Jackson, nor any of the characters related to it. I would like to point out, however, that only the invention of Percy Jackson, Camp Half Blood and other half bloods belong to Rick Riordan. The Gods and Monsters belong to the culture of Ancient Greece, a place held in high regard amongst history. I do, however, own Echo. She is of my own invention and I do not wish for any other to use her. I have not profited from this fan fiction._

_Hey, Guys. Like I said, I'm really getting into this now which means... More updates! Yay, I can feel the excitement! That last Chapter was one of a kind I reckon, and unless I'm doing a battle scene, or I'm in a really bad mood, things shouldn't be as brutal as what happened to poor Porkpie. I think that's a relief to some of you..._

_This Chapter is set in the past, and if you like these particular Roman Chapters, then I must insist that you run to your nearest bookstore and buy Cleopatra's Daughter, by Michelle Moran. I really wouldn't be able to write these Chapters so richly and accurately without it. So, without further ado..._

_NOTE: I know it may be odd to some of you that I am describing 10 year olds in such mature terms... My simple answer is that, in Roman times, a 10 year old would be considered the same as a teenager in this day and age. In our eyes, Echo and Perseus would be about 15-16 in how they are treated. _

Horatia passed a hand over her eyes in a soothing gesture. Her mind was filled with thoughts of arguments with Pollio, ravaging Chimeras and poisonous snakes. She was so worried about her children that when the Arena burst into applause as the white team won, she almost jumped out of her skin, causing her Husband to glare at her disapprovingly. Horatia instantly regained her composure and clapped gracefully and politely. She gave a quick glance over her shoulder to where her children sat with their friends.

They were both 10 now, and they were more beautiful than any of the other children in her opinion. They both had muscled, lithe bodies under their toga's, with a strong Roman stature. Their skin was bronzed and their hair was rich and dark, Perseus' flopping into his eyes with his casual good looks, and Echo's beautiful waves of hair had been set into a loose bun on her head, with Sapphire pins holding the hair in place. They were Roman beauties, but the thing that made them individual from the other children were their strong, blue eyes. They changed colour, it seemed, with their moods. Horatia would look into their eyes for hours when they were children, and if she looked long enough she could have sworn she saw Poseidon, her Godly lover, looking back.

They had never met their Father. Horatia had only been with him four times since they were born, and always when they were sleeping. She sometimes saw him watching while she was walking them to Ludus, or to the Forum. Even when she, the children, Pollio, Caesar and Julia were walking to Theatre, but it seemed it was only her that saw him through the crowd. Neither Pollio, nor anyone else ever had really suspected about her having an affair and if she told them it was with Neptune, no one would believe her.

Perseus and Echo were continually together and were often compared with Selene and Alexander, the Twins of Marc Antony and Cleopatra. They had been together for their entire lives, until Alexander had been murdered. Selene was named Queen of Macedonia after her Marriage with King Juba and had not been back to Rome for several years. Horatia smiled. She had always loved those twins; they had always been kind to her.

She sighed, and returned her attention to the Races in front of her. She knew the children enjoyed the Chariot Racing, but she thought it was borderline cruel. The way the drivers thrashed their horses was disgusting, as she had always hated watching it. She smiled as the Races finally finished, Octavian getting up and starting to leave; a signal they should all do the same. Horatia swept gracefully to her feet once Pollio had staggered upright and, not for the first time, she noticed how weak her husband was becoming. He was extremely old now, and with his lifestyle, liable to die soon. Horatia certainly wouldn't miss him, but if she remarried she was unsure if Echo would be allowed to join her in her new husband's house. She shook her head; she could not think of such things. She would not be parted from Echo, or Perseus, not on her life. Horatia smiled as Perseus darted through the crowds to his her side, pulling his sister by the hand. She smiled and grasped his shoulder, and together they walked to the Campus.

Campus was a rather important, but wholly unexpected part of Horatia's life. She had been worried about how she would prepare Perseus, and more importantly Echo, for the physical part of the life ahead of them. Women were not allowed to train at all and men were only trained to the standard Poseidon expected from her at the level of the inner sanctum. She was worried. However, when Perseus turned 9, Octavian himself approached Horatia and Pollio and offered to train Perseus with Drusus, Tiberius' younger brother, and other members of the ruling family. Of course they immediately accepted, and Perseus had excelled at his first lesson.

Upon return from his first lesson, Echo had approached Octavian and Agrippa with a regal presence and had asked if she, too, could train. Everyone had been awestruck and shocked, especially Livia, Octavian's sour wife. Livia insisted upon making her own tunics, and had a very old fashioned view on women and their roles. Octavian, to everyone else's surprise, had laughed and agreed, asking Agrippa to give her a sword and practise a few sword techniques, in front of everyone. Echo was a quiet young girl, but with a reassuring gaze from her mother and brother, her face turned into a mask of determination and she yielded her sword with a strong, firm grip. She had excelled to such an extent that Agrippa agreed to personally train both of her and Perseus. Pollio had been embarrassed, but it transpired that Octavian had been much more impressed than he had let on, and he kept the twins close to him; raising Pollio's status on the social ladder and therefore solving that particular problem. With a wry grin, Horatia often though her 'luck' was a lot more to do with Poseidon than anything else.

Horatia smiled as her children surged into the stables with enthusiasm. Both were amazing horse people, but in such a way that it almost scared Horatia. Echo, in particular, had bonded with one horse so much so, that it appeared to people almost unnatural. She had no need for reins, or a saddle, and had ridden bareback, much to Horatia's worry. Luckily, Octavian did not appear to be suspicious, and Gallia, Octavia's Gaul Ornatrix had described her as the spirit of Epona, a Goddess from her homeland who took the form of a Horse.

Horatia smiled and took her position in the female part of the training area, where she could easily see the training and had an amazing view of the river. She sat down and began to weave; a useless skill in her opinion, but one that Livia, Empress of Rome, insisted upon. She set up her weights, and began a light conversation with Julia and Octavia. Octavia was Octavian's sister, and had been Marcellus' mother. Marcellus had been Julia's husband, but had died a few years previously, much to the despair of practically everyone. Marcellus had been well loved throughout the society of the Palatine. The effect on both Octavia and Julia had been drastic, and in such a way that it depressed Horatia. She liked Octavia, an older woman who had spread charity all over the Subura with her daughters; Horatia had never met a kinder, gentler, more modest woman. She had, however, withdrawn from public life with her daughters, and it was rare for Horatia to see her nowadays. She seemed in an almost cheerful mood today, though, and was smiling and laughing gently, encouraging both Julia's and Horatia's mood to improve. Livia, of course, remained as sour as ever, and the younger ones, such as Vipsania, Agrippa's daughter and former wife of Tiberius, remained silent.

Eventually, after several hours in the heat and when the talk had dwindled to nothing but a comfortable silence, the men and Echo returned on horseback, drawing a collective gasp for the women. All were in full battle armour, which had obviously been fitted during the previous month, as none had seen it before. The men looked regal, as ever, in their gleaming golden plate, but it was Echo and Perseus that drew the most attention. Placed on the left side of Octavian, both looked dangerously stunning, in a fitted breastplate. Perseus looked more muscular and lithe than any of the other men, despite his age, including an aging Agrippa, and other women passing by were eyeing his arms and legs appreciatively. In fact, the looks he was getting made Horatia proud and furious in equal measure. His blue eyes were both serious and proud, he was turning into a man with ever more gathering speed, and what with events of recent months, he was ever more determined to protect his Mother from both the dangers that faced them, and from Pollio.

Echo wore almost the exact expression as her brother and it was obvious, in that moment, just how similar, and close, the twins were. They remained so close that their horses were almost continually touching, and they moved in near perfect synchronicity with each other. Echo was beautiful, but in such a way that she was strikingly dangerous. A female warrior was almost unheard of in Roman society, but if anyone could have pulled it off, it was Horatia's daughter. Her hair was pinned in a tight ponytail, and her long curly hair cascaded down her back, a black contrast to the gold, sculpted breastplate she was wearing. Instead of the leather around her legs, as the men wore, she had two long leather strips, front and back, that covered her modesty, but left her thighs and legs completely bare, so her speed could come into play during a fight. A bow and arrow, handsomely carved, was strapped to her back, and a sword, that for some reason seemed outrageously ill placed, was perched on her hip. Even at 10 years old, she looked a woman. She saw her Mother, and in full view of a thoroughly disapproving Livia, winked.

Neither children knew what they were, but sometimes, Horatia thought that they may suspect that they were not normal children. They were not, in any way, stupid and they knew that some of what they faced was not right. They were also smart enough not to mention it in any way to Octavian, or the others. Sometimes, Horatia worried herself to death about what she would say when they finally confronted her, as she had been born with the ability to see through the mist. Although she had led a sheltered life, and had not seen a single thing before she had met Poseidon, Poseidon had warned her that day on the beach that when the children turned ten, she would begin to see the Monsters for what they were. And, terrifyingly, she had. Sometimes she thought the kids could too, but she was too frightened to ask; she was worried that if she did, and they couldn't, she would scare them. That was the exact opposite to what she wanted, so she had decided to let them come to her when they decided that they were ready.

Octavian drew forward, and spoke a few quiet words with Livia and warmly greeted his sister. Horatia smiled at the aging Emperor's kindness. Then he retreated and began to trot toward the arena, the others following them.

Suddenly, without warning, four huge men, in full battle armour with huge axes and clubs, charged through the women, knocking them and their looms over. Horatia was pushed from the shoulder, and fell underneath her loom, with all its weights attached. A jagged piece of splintered wood cut into her side, causing her to cry out in pain. She could see both of her children start at her cry. Both looked absolutely furious, and Perseus let out a vicious kind of growl in his throat and spurred his horse back to the women, Echo at his heels. The other men, hearing the commotion and the Twins inhuman reaction to their Mother's plight, all drew their swords. Octavian held back, Agrippa and Drusus staying close to him, as was their duty. Agrippa almost looked mutinous as he saw his daughter on the floor, weeping, but Tiberius was galloping toward the men with all the rage of a protective husband; he was, despite his arrogant, disagreeing personality, very much in love with his former wife. He had been forced to marry Julia when Marcellus died so that he inherited the throne, but he had never forgiven Octavian for it. He and Vipsania had had an affair going on for years, even after their divorce.

The five brutes faced the three Roman warriors with sneers and taunts; it occurred to Horatia that they must have killed all of the Praetorian Guards stationed outside the Campus, and she began to weep for the very real sorrow of the death that filled the air around them, and for fear of her children. One of the men looked back at her, seeming to laugh at her tears, and she froze.

He had only one eye.

She struggled, terrified that the plight of her children had begun for them; at such a young age, already. There was not enough time, they had only had a year of training, and it was NOT ENOUGH! Her maternal emotions and thoughts, her love for her children overcame her, as did her helplessness. She struggled to get free from under her loom, and encouraged the other women to gather in the corner; Livia had tried to flee, but the entrance was blocked with some kind of flame, burning a strange shade of green. Octavia had gathered the others and was shouting at her in some kind of panic. Horatia looked up, just in time to see her children clash with the monsters they were faced with.

Perseus had, much to Horatia's distress, taken on the most brutish of the men... No, not men; the Cyclops'. The monster swung at Perseus' horse, but the horse reared and the blow missed. Perseus jumped off the saddle, and rolled safely on the sand of the training ground. The horse continued to kick at the Cyclops, but just as the Cyclops growled and began to swing his club, Perseus surged forward and sliced into both of its legs, leaving blood running down to the earth. The Cyclops staggered forward and Perseus used the opportunity to stab at the beast's stomach. With unnatural speed, the Cyclops managed to parry his blow with his club and threw Perseus backwards. Perseus growled and rolled back, landing in a crouch. He looked on in horror as the slice he had just made in the beast's legs healed. The two, once again, clashed. Behind him, his sister's fight was going just as well.

Echo had chosen two, smaller, axe wielding monsters. Her sword was quicker than a rushing stream, but she didn't seem to be at all comfortable with the weapon. Her speed and agility was the only thing that kept her alive as she dodged heavy blows aiming at her back and head. She kept slashing at their limbs, hoping to make them cringe to give her even the slightest edge, but to her astonishment and annoyance they kept healing. She gritted her teeth in frustration and rolled towards her brother.

"Our weapons aren't even hurting them, Perce! We're not going to get anywhere like this!"

"What else can we do, Echo? We have to try; we can't let them get Mother!"

Tiberius suddenly cried out in pain, having been slashed open cleanly in the side by his own attacker. Echo looked to Perseus, both feeling as helpless as the other. Horatia struggled even harder against her restraint.

'_Tell them to get to the river...'_

Horatia looked around frantically, but it was Poseidon speaking to her; she felt, as well as sensed, their Father's anxiety. She looked up, and looked frantically at her children as they separated to fight their foes, and somehow get to Tiberius before he was murdered before their eyes.

"GO TO THE RIVER!" Her words were screamed, scared and completely driven by some kind of hope that her lover would not allow their children to die. Echo and Perseus looked confused at their Mother's odd request in the middle of a very real death match, but her tone made it so they couldn't take what she said as some kind of joke.

They exchanged a quick glance and both made for the river; neither could be rivalled for speed as the slow Cyclops' stumbled behind them. As they ran, Echo sheathed her sword and nocked her bow and arrow. She aimed with uncanny precision, and shot the Cyclops bearing down upon Tiberius in the head. It staggered, howling in pain, although the shot should have killed him. Perseus took the time to pick an unconscious Tiberius up in his young arms, and begin to struggle toward the river. Tiberius may have been slight, but Perseus was only a boy, a whole 5 years from a man, and he had trouble with his elder. Echo tried to help, but Perseus was much stronger then she was, and she wasn't of much assistance. They finally got to the river, the Cyclops' making their way over, leisurely, taunting them in another language that Echo somehow recognised as Greek.

Finally, they fell beside the river, and oddly, as the water swelled up their legs, sweeping in amongst their toes and into their sandals, they felt their strength come back to them; their bloodlust suddenly heightened and their focus was clearer. They felt ready to take on the Gods themselves, let alone four furious Cyclops'. Echo smiled, and breathed the fresh air with newfound hope, before something in the water caught her eye. She stared before her eyes widened in surprise, and she threw herself in the water, her hands reaching out. Perseus, who had leant down to apply pressure to Tiberius' wound, as he had been taught by Agrippa, let out a strangled cry as he heard his sister fall into the river. He watched as she seemed to retrieve something at the bottom and she seemed to stay down there. His eyes darted from her, to the advancing brutes, to a shouting Agrippa and Octavian, to his frightened Mother.

Finally, the threat the Cyclops' posed could not wait anymore. Perseus drew his sword, took one last worried look at the dark form of his sister beneath the rivers current, and charged into combat with four fully grown Cyclops'. His speed, strength, ferocity and determination was marvelled by everyone who watched, including the most powerful man in the world; Octavian.

Oblivious to her brother's plight, Echo resurfaced, her hair, startlingly, looking as dry as if had before she jumped. She swam to the shore, instantly seeing what she should have known and cursing at herself because of it. She snarled and gripped the 5 ft Trident she held in her hand, and twisting the beautifully crafted dagger into her belt. She ran forward, kicked one of the Cyclops' on the back of the knees, taking him by surprised and making him crumple forward. With the speed and grace befitting a wild cat, she twirled her trident like a spear and struck; the middle fork piercing under his chin and slicing through to the top of his skull. She smiled, pulling her trident from the still twitching body as it fell at her feet and melted into the sand. For a moment, everything was still, in shock, and then the three remaining Cyclops' threw themselves at her. Perseus tripped one with his sword as it ran forward, and stabbed it in the eye, watching it howl in pain. Rolling forward between the other two flailing bodies, Echo approached her brother and quickly gave him the dagger in her belt before being forced to step back and parry a blow.

Perseus instantly felt a connection with the dagger that he had never experienced with a weapon, and he held it upon an open palm and smacked his hands together without even thinking, watching as it expanded into a perfectly balanced sword. He smiled and caught his sister's eye, and quickly decapitated the stabbed Cyclops. He then ran forward and knocked the Cyclops Echo was fighting against the ankle, sweeping his feet away from him, just as she forced a blow to his face. He then stabbed the Cyclops through the throat. The Twins watched it bleed out, and slowly disintegrate; just like the others. They then looked up; the other Cyclops was fleeing in the direction of their Mother, and it took just another look for the Twins to decide what to do. Echo hefted her trident into one hand as Perseus began to pursue the lumbering beast. With a swift, accurate javelin throw, she launched her Trident into a deadly, graceful arch through the air, catching the beast in the lower back. The brute fell as an easy target for her brother, who, almost leisurely, stabbed it in the heart.

Echo walked forward and pulled her Trident from the sand the bodies had turned into, and held it in her open palm, tapping it gently. It slowly shrunk, and became a Sapphire and Mother of Pearl hairclip, in the shape of a water lily; her Mother's favourite kind of flower. Perseus watched in intrigue and quickly did the same, and watched as it shrunk into the deadly, wicked dagger he had first seen it as.

"Wow." He breathed, trying to calm himself, so as to figure this phenomenon out. Echo gave a worried look behind them, toward Tiberius.

"I'll explain tonight, Perce... I think Tiberius is... C'mon, brother!" She quickly sprinted toward the unconscious man, giving a high pitched whistle as she did so. Perseus was quick on her heels, and knelt beside the Heir's head.

"This doesn't look good..." He whispered, as he cradled the man's ashen looking, sweat drenched head. "He needs to see Magister Verrius. He'll die otherwise, Echo. And it'll be our fault for not protecting him..." He didn't need to finish his sentence. If the heir died because of them, they would be executed, and their family put into exile; heroic acts or no.

As if on cue, Echo's grey speckled horse, Heracles, trotted up beside them. Echo gritted her teeth. "We can't let that happen, Perce." With a single fluid movement, she mounted Heracles and sat back in the saddle, leaving enough room for a man. "I'm the best horseman here. You know I could get him to the Palatine before anyone else. Get him on the saddle." Perseus looked at his sister, momentarily uncertain, but her look of grim determination convinced him; besides... What other choice did they have? As gently as he could, he lifted Tiberius and both he and Echo managed to get him in the saddle, securely. Without a single word, Echo guided Heracles with the slightest touch of her hand and they were galloping, out into the forum and to the Palatine.

He looked over to see Drusus and Agrippa helping his Mother free, as Octavian soothed his wife, sister, daughter in law and nieces, who were all scared half to death. He saw his Mother's look of worry, pride and horror in equal measure, and he quickly ran over, thankful that his horse, Cleo, was safe and unharmed, gazing at him peacefully beside the others. As he approached, the others became silent, watching him. His Mother's gaze flicked from him to Octavian, as if wondering what the old Emperor's reaction would be to the events of the past twenty minutes. Perseus had to admit he was thinking the same thing. Octavian stepped forward and Perseus froze, watching Octavian until the man was right in front of him.

"Tiberius?"

The words were soft, and Perseus could hear the threat behind them. He looked the Emperor in the eyes.

"Echo is taking him to Magister Verrius as we speak. I think that, although his wounds were severe, he will survive as long as he contracts no kind of infection."

Octavian nodded, and the tension in the air broke; Perseus had never seen the Emperor look so old until that day.

"You and your sister have surprised us all. You did well. You have my gratitude for protecting my family."

"I thank you, Augustus, on behalf of me and my sister." He murmured gently; using the name they often used for him.

Octavian waved him off to console Livia; Tiberius was her son, and although they argued, she seemed to be the only man she had ever really cared about. Perseus looked at his Mother, and she opened her arms to him. Without even realising it, he fell into them, tired and confused of the day's events; hopefully, Echo's 'explanation' could help to clear his mind. Horatia clasped her Son's head against her chest and together they embraced, serenely. A soldier, the first they had seen since the fight ran into the frame; the fire had died down as soon as the Cyclops' had been killed. He quickly bowed to Octavian, and described the havoc outside in the Forum. At least 7 Praetorians had been murdered, and the entire Forum was in uproar, as everyone believed Octavian to be dead. Perseus saw the ghost of a smile on Octavian's lips; the man could have changed anything to a political advantage and this, Perseus knew, would be one of those times.

The Soldier then turned to Horatia, and Perseus, and approached them with a sombre expression.

"I'm afraid your husband and father, Pollio, was also killed in the attack. I'm sorry for your loss."

Horatia fainted.


	7. Unwelcome Memories

An Unwelcome Memory...

_Note: I do not own Percy Jackson, nor any of the characters related to it. I would like to point out, however, that only the invention of Percy Jackson, Camp Half Blood and other half bloods belong to Rick Riordan. The Gods and Monsters belong to the culture of Ancient Greece, a place held in high regard amongst history. I do, however, own both Echo and the Camp of Immortal Heroes. They are of my own invention and I do not wish for any other to use them. I have not profited from this fan fiction._

_Hey, guys. You must hate me, I do realise I take ages to update, and I'm sorry about that, really... I suck, I know. Things are a bit hectic for me at the moment, as I've just been made homeless, so I'm looking for a new job and somewhere to live. Good times. But hopefully, this Chapter shows to why Echo is why she is, or one of the many reasons. Hope you enjoy it, my darlings! And, if you do review (and please do, I LOVE hearing what you guys have to say!) please say more than 'OMG! I LUUURVVVE IT!' I appreciate that you enjoy my writing, but I'd love to know what you think I can improve on and precisely what is WAS that you loved so much! _

I awoke with a start at Sunrise; despite the fact I had clearly had no more than 6 hours of sleep, I felt completely energised, more so than I had ever done when I was human. I got up gracefully, my half naked body shining a bronze in the bright morning light. As I did so, I spied a golden seashell next to my couch. I allowed myself a smile at Apollo's message. It was simply to say he would be back in the evening. I yawned, stretching, marvelling at how awake my body was, and dressed in some denim shorts, orange 'Camp Half Blood' tank top and my old style Grecian sandals. I quickly went to check myself in the mirror, but froze. Despite my fretful sleep, my face was flawless, and my hair was in perfect curls spread around my shoulders. Only my clear blue eyes revealed my troubled inner thoughts, but no one who didn't know me very well would pick up on that. To them, I would simply be a beautiful, carefree Goddess. I sighed, my eyes hardening, and replaced my stunning golden circlet on my olive-skinned brow. I felt something in the back of my mind, and opened my door, just in time to see Percy, his hand raised to knock.

"Hello, Little Brother." I said softly, walking forward.

"Hi, Echo." He responded, in a tired voice. He was wearing an orange shirt and jeans, along with the trainers Sally had sent as a 'well-done-for-saving-the-world' gesture. He looked worried, and I realised the news must have got out. I sighed, passing a hand over my eyes.

"I just came to bring you to the War Council." I looked at him and nodded, bringing my door to.

"Then let's go. Is Tyson going to be there?" I asked gently, a hint of distress in my voice. Percy caught my eye and nodded, the same module of worry that I knew would be in my own eyes in his. We knew what was going to happen; Tyson would be in bits, and cry about the 'pony'. He may have fought against Typhon himself, but he had a big heart and he loved Horses more than just about everything, except his friends and family. He had known Porkpie personally. A sudden image leapt from my memory, unbidden, of red, spreading in the sand, washed away by the bloody tide, Porkpie's shuddering last breath, flashing before my eyes in a second. I gritted my even white teeth, and walked into my War Council. Some faces were just upset, some nonchalant, and some utterly devastated; namely my brother, Tyson. I sighed and took my place beside Chiron, who quickly convened the Council.

It transpired that that every single Camper was accounted for the previous night, as was every single sword; Annabeth had personally checked them. I frowned, my hand reaching up to pluck the trident from my curls. It grew full size, and I placed it in the air next to me. I didn't want it to fall, so it didn't, simply hovering in midair. I concealed my pleasure at my newfound gifts. Everyone stared at me, including Annabeth and my brothers. I'd not shown my Godlihood so openly before. I stood, my eyes staring each person down.

"From tonight forward, only Heads of Cabins will have keys to Cabins. These will be placed under a magic that alerts me, Chiron and all other Heads of Cabins should it leave their person. There will be a stronger enforcement on curfew from here on in, and Head's WILL perform attendance checks every night, which I will personally check. Any absence's are to be reported to either myself, or Chiron, absolutely no excuses. I'm sorry, but I refuse to risk another like Porkpie. This is not just a refuge for half bloods, and I think it is time people were reminded of that."

I reached out, and grasped my trident, which began to glow like molten bronze. "You may go."

They all rose from their seats quickly, giving me strange, and in some cases, openly frightened looks as I watched them leave.

"You are upset."

Chiron was setting himself on his hooves with difficulty, due to his splints. I reached down to give him a gentle hand, which he accepted, much to my surprise. I helped him into his wheelchair, considering my answer. I laid a blanket on his fake legs before replying.

"It has simply taken me by surprise. I wouldn't have allowed anything like this to happen in Camp Immortal. I won't let it happen here."

Chiron nodded, smoothing the blanket down, and tucking it around his waist, as was his habit. "I know you never believed it, Echo, but you ruled that camp well. Brutus wasn't your fault, and nor is Porkpie. We WILL find the person responsible."

My lips mashed into a hard straight line as Brutus, the one I had been trying so hard not to think about, rushed into my mind.

Decades previously...

Echo ran, her silver armour jostling noiselessly in sync with her frantic pace, her face a mask of both worry and determination.

It was early evening in Camp Immortal. The large, white arena was sitting majestically in the colossal hill, surrounded by long green grass and wildflowers. The arena, barracks, cabins, armoury and offices stood, all shrouded in gentle shadows. Wind whistled through the branches of old trees, shaking the leaves with soft breath. Venus shone brightly in the sky, tiny stars beginning to follow their mistress into the darkening abyss of space. It was a beautiful night, as it usually was in the Camp of Immortal Heroes. Tonight, however, it was marred by that ungodly, terrified, high pitched scream.

Echo was fast, racing to the source of the noise. Her best friends were with her; Marka Twain, Daughter of Apollo was the only one capable of keeping pace with her. Lucas Travoy, Son of Athena, Harris Marrihor, Son of Ares, and Kassy Asthra, Daughter of Hades, were running a couple of strides behind them.

"No! No, STOP! You don't want to do this... You want to step back, and put your weapon do- Oh, Gods! NO! HELP ME!"

The power of Charmspeak had almost swept Echo off her feet, and her eyes widened. The Speaker was Annette, Daughter of Aphrodite and she was absolutely terrified. Behind her, Echo could hear an animalistic growl behind her; Harris had heard Annette. She heard the whistle of his sword being drawn, and felt a weight pull down her stomach. Harris was a master of all blades, and this one was his favourite. He was an expert in weaponry, and he knew how to use the blade to kill, to torture... He was a dangerous man when roused; reaching over everyone at just over 7 ft, he was built. He spent all his free time working out, to better himself, to make his spirit a legend through power and violence. He was handsome, with a strong bone structure and tough, chiselled features. He was a strong, loyal and, at times, gentle man. Echo, surprisingly, got on with him very well, although she didn't usually get along with his siblings. It just so happened that Annette, beautiful, sweet Annette, was his fiancée.

It was Echo and Marka who burst into the woodland and through the underbrush first. They charged into a clearing, Echo tearing her trident from her net of pearls, and drawing it. Marka drew her bow, and nocked it within a matter of seconds, standing behind her defensive friend. She was a petite blonde, with slightly angled features. Her eyes were a like a bright blue sky, in contrast with Echo's blue depths. She wore an English Hunter's outfit, with a leather corset and riding leggings, with long leather boots. She was sweet and kind, and although she didn't particularly like fighting, she was easily the best archer Echo had ever seen.

Echo's eyes widened as a scene unravelled in front of them, and Marka gave a strangled, emotional gasp. Annette was crying on the ground, her eyes squeezed tightly closed and clutching desperately at her stomach, which had been slashed open. She was trying to stem the bleeding, but it was like an unstoppable crimson tide streaming through her fingers. She looked up at the noise of leaves parting and saw Echo, crying out.

"ECHO! Thank the Gods, HELP ME!"

Echo's lip trembled and she looked at the tall, well built man standing over Annette with a blood slicked stygian blade. His name was Brutus, and he was a Son of Hades; the eldest Camp Immortal had. Around him with various weaponry, (except guns, which were magically banned from Camp Immortal), were the soldiers of the damned. He was usually a solid friend of Echo's, as they had been born in around about the same era, and he was a good fighter. He was tall and lean, only slightly smaller than Harris. Echo had never thought to fight him.

Harris, Lucas and Kassy ran into the clearing, Harris running straight toward his Fiancée with a strangled roar. Brutus, surprisingly, simply stepped back from his victim, staring resolutely at Echo, who stared back with confused glint in her eyes. Seeing Brutus' stupor, Harris picked Annette up with gentle hands, and quickly took her to Marka, who, after a moment's hesitation, put her weapon away and pulled out her healing supplies, which was held in various pouches around her waist. Lucas ran straight to Echo's side, pulling his long sword from its sheath.

Kassy, on the other hand, stood exactly where she had first seen her brother and froze. Her already pale complexion had turned white. Her dark green eyes, with dark smoky eyeliner and grey eye shadow, had widened, and had begun to tear, threatening to spill down her gaunt face. Her pierced eyebrow was twitching, struggling not to cry. She was the newest member of the Immortal Heroes, but was unbelievably powerful already. Brutus was her only sibling here, and he had been her rock. In the past five years, the two had been so close, it had warmed Echo.

Brutus ignored his sister and raised his blade pointing it directly at Echo, as if to challenge her. Within Camp Immortal, if you challenged the Director, it was for the position. However, it was obvious to everyone that wasn't the reason for Brutus' actions. Echo noted the almost blank look in his eyes, his vacant expression; he wasn't himself, and this was not his normal temperament. She knew something was wrong, but she didn't see another option. Echo placed another hand on her trident, and stepped into her fighting stance.

"NO!"

Echo looked around slowly to Kassy, who had stepped forward, drawing both her Stygian daggers. Unexpectedly, she had turned to Brutus, not Echo, and held her weapons to him.

"You don't want to do this, Brother. I know you. Something's wrong."

Brutus did not reply, he had not even faced her. He was still staring at Echo. Kassy clenched her fists around her daggers so hard, her knuckles had turned white. She stepped between Brutus and Echo, with a snarl on her face. The soldiers of the damned began to look confused; Kassy was fighting her Brother for control.

"BRUTUS!"

This time there was a glint of recognition in his eyes, but it was only a glimmer and it disappeared as fast as it appeared. But it was there. And both Echo and Kassy had seen it. Brutus seemed like some kind of automaton, and it was unnerving everyone. Brutus was a quiet man but he had strong opinions, and a strong personality. But this seemed almost as if something possessed him, something was inside him.

Kassy bit her lip so hard a bead of blood fell down from her lip, onto the pale skin of her chin. "Brutus... You're not my brother... But he is still in there. He's not dead. Who are you?"

That was when Echo's blood froze.

"I am Perseus."


	8. The First Meeting

Right, guys. Here it is! The eighth chapter! I hope you enjoy it! Oh, and Merry Christmas, a Happy Yule, and a fantastic new year. I hope you like your present... ;)

"Echo, I need you to press down hard! That's it, right there. Just let me... Here it is! Now, hold him still... I wonder when Gallia will get here. Was she with the ladies? No! Don't release him, the bleeding will start again! I need to wash it first with this, which will greatly reduce the chances of an infection..."

Magister Verrius was rushing around a semi conscious, but still thrashing Tiberius, trying to stem his bleeding and stitch his wound. His biggest problem was infection. If one settled in, there was a high chance it would kill him, and it would be Magister Verrius, Echo and Perseus who would be seeing the Underworld very soon, not just Tiberius. They were fighting not just for the heir's lives, but for their own. Echo was covered in blood; some her own, but mostly from Tiberius. It kept rushing through her fingers no matter how hard she pressed; it seemed to be worrying Magister Verrius, which in turn was terrifying Echo. After about an hour of Echo being there, and plenty of frenzied running around, Tiberius was slowly beginning to improve. The bleeding had stopped and the wound was half stitched. He had stopped thrashing, and seemed to have fallen into a fretful, pain ridden sleep. Gallia, Octavia's Ornatrix and Magister Verrius' wife eventually rushed in through the doors.

"Verrius!" She said in her beautiful, dangerous Gallic accent.

Verrius looked up and smiled, looking slightly relieved. "Get into a cotton tunic, and come and help me. Then I can release Echo. I'm sure her Parents and Brother are worried about her; and she needs to see a healer. I'd tend to her, but..." He looked at Tiberius, with the heir still in an unstable condition, he had his hands full. Gallia nodded and quickly rushed into another room, before hurrying back.

"Your brother and Mother are being tended to at Augustus' Villa. They are eager to see you. Food is being prepared. After that fight, I dare say you are going to need it... I've never seen a woman fight the way you do. It's..." Gallia smiled slightly, but something flashed in her eyes before she quickly looked away. Verrius was too busy tending to Tiberius to notice, but Echo had caught it. She frowned slightly.

"It's what, Gallia?" She asked. Gallia shook her head, pretending to focus on her husband and patient.

"Nothing, Echo. You need to go to the Villa. Heracles has been taken to the stables by the groom, and a cut on his shoulder has been treated. He is suitable to ride, however." Echo frowned at the odd coldness in her voice. She and Gallia had been friends for a long time, since Echo was a little girl, but she seemed to be shutting Echo out. Echo's blood ran cold as she remembered the woman's warning, under the waves of the river. That fateful conversation, forgotten amidst the worry of Tiberius, ran fresh in her mind. She left, oddly tired, Gallia's strange behaviour not forgotten but put to one side to deal with later.

She ran to the stables, where Heracles looked up with his long, beautiful face. His eyes expressed worry. _'Are you well, Mistress?' _

Echo nodded. "Yes, Heracles." She replied, with a furtive look around her for any unwanted ears. She and Perseus had known about their talent of being able to speak with horses for a very long time, ever since they were small children. Their fondness for them had always been great, and it was a gift both of them treasured. They had gathered that the others had not been gifted with their talent right from the discovery, so they were extremely secretive about it, and they presumed that Octavian and the others just thought they were extremely talented equestrians.

"How is your shoulder?" She asked, worried. Her hand ran up and down Heracles' neck in a soothing motion she knew he enjoyed. She loved Heracles more than anything; he was her friend and her confidant. She didn't know what she'd do without him. He nosed her shoulder.

'_I am fine, Mistress. You have no cause to worry about me. It is your wounds I am worried about. Strange things are happening, Mistress, and I do not know why. But you need to be on your guard, as does the Master. Cleo and I... We feel something is going on; it puts our coats on end. Today was just the beginning.'_

Echo was startled. She always knew the horse was wise, but his warning echoed that of the river woman so closely, it made her blood tingle. She nodded, and kissed his velvet muzzle, unable to reply. With that, she mounted him with her usual lithe, graceful movement, but as she rose into the saddle, her arm buckled and she cried out in pain, causing Heracles ear to twitch. She raised her armour, and saw in alarm that one of her wounds had turned a dreadful black, as if it had been poisoned. Heracles flicked his thoughts toward her in an anxious gesture.

"Ride as fast as you can, Heracles. This isn't good." She said, weakly. Heracles snorted in both worry and acknowledgement, and his hind legs quickly propelled them out of the stables, and up towards the villa with an urgency she had rarely seen him exhibit. She laid low in the saddle, alarmed to find her strength was sapping as her adrenaline ceased. Heracles was careful to try not to jostle her too much, but he was struggling with the speed he was running. Every time he had to jump over a felled branch or a drunken man on the Palatine, it felt as though thousands of small daggers were piercing her skin into her infected flesh. Eventually, he slowed to a stop, straight into the stables. He even lay on his knees to help her down, nuzzling her as she stumbled. She laid a hand on his muzzle, and his scared eyes watched her with the utmost emotion.

'_Mistress...'_ His voice echoed in her blurry mind. _'You need to get inside, straight to the master. GO, Mistress.' _As much as Echo loved Heracles, Heracles would have died for his Mistress. He had had an abusive master before Echo, under someone who whipped him for even the slightest error. He loved Echo more than anything, and he was incredibly protective. Cleo suddenly appeared from within a box, and saw what was going on, whinnying worriedly. Echo slumped down to her knees, and with that Heracles got to his feet and whinnied as loud as he could, stamping his hooves, bucking himself into the air and making as much fuss and noise as he possibly could. Cleo soon joined him, seeing what he was doing, and banging against the wooden wall of her box. She knew if she herself made enough fuss, Perseus would sense her unease and coming rushing out to her. Within minutes, a couple of slaves rushed into calm the horses, and saw Echo beside him. As soon as the slaves came in and saw Echo, Heracles became docile and calm again, Heracles leaning down to nuzzle a now unconscious Echo on the ground. Cleo, however, continued to whinny, determined to attract her Master's attention.

One of the slaves tried to put Heracles into the stable box, but Heracles refused to move, staying with his Mistress, laying down beside her to keep her warm, as she was shivering and breaking out in a sweat. Within minutes, Perseus came running out to see Cleo. He was wearing a white toga, with red linings. His hair was wet at the nape and his wounds had been bandaged. Cleo quietened, much to the slaves trying to attend to Echo's surprise, and she whinnied loudly, in alarm. Perseus saw Heracles and his sister and ran down to them with almost inhuman speed.

"Echo!" He shouted, his throat tightening. He crouched beside her, against Heracles' chest. Heracles leaned his head on Perseus' back, soothed and relieved by his presence.

'_I tried to get her here as soon as possible; she has a wound on her shoulder. She seemed worried about it, and told me to go as fast as possible. She only just passed out. I'm worried; a wound has never affected her this much before.'_

Perseus nodded, unable to reply when the slaves were so close. He picked her up in his strong arms, easily, looking briefly under her armour to her shoulder and widening his eyes. Without a word both he and Heracles got up, Heracles moving over to a slave and nosing him. Perseus took Echo straight into the Villa, into the dining area where Octavian, Julia, Agrippa and most importantly, their Mother were reclining, waiting until the food was ready to be served. Horatia looked to Perseus, and then to her daughter, and let out a strangled cry, leaping off of her couch and running forward to her children. She led Perseus to the couch and helped him lay Echo down. Perseus quickly removed her armour, despite some of the men's obvious discomfort. A healer, an acolyte of Magister Verrius, came running out from helping Vipsania, who had suffered a deep gash to her leg during the attack, and took in Echo's wound with a worried look. He took a roll of leather and laid it out, where his surgical equipment was lying in wait. He gritted his teeth as he took out a sharpened knife. He looked to Perseus.

"Go and get some linen, boiled and dry. This is going to bleed quite badly, but I need to remove the infected flesh before it affects her anymore. I think the fact she lost consciousness is simply through blood loss. Maybe the poison hasn't spread too far yet."

Perseus leapt his feet, and ran into the next room, ignoring Vipsania as she asked for news of Tiberius, grabbing the linen and rushing back, nearly tripping in his haste. The healer took the linen and washed the wound; the skin had turned hard and black, but when he pushed down, nasty smelling pus oozed from the wound, causing Horatia to bite down on her lip and shed a single tear.

"Please, help my daughter." She whispered; the healer looked up and saw the worry in her eyes and nodded once, bringing the sharpened knife to her skin. Octavian himself began to walk forward and placed a hand on Horatia's shoulder, showing an unusual display of affection. Horatia, unthinking in her daughters plight, raised her hand and covered it with hers, gripping it tightly. Livia looked livid, but knew her husband well enough not to comment.

Horatia winced and leaned into Octavian's hand as the healer cut into her daughters flesh. Echo's eyes flew open as the knife pierced her and let out a loud groan, grabbing whatever was closest to her, which happened to be Perseus' hand. He held it tightly, leaning down to her face.

"Echo, he has to clean your wound. Please, let him help you. I'm here, I'd never let anything happen to you." Echo looked up, tears sparkling in her pain-ridden eyes, and she nodded, keeping her mouth firmly closed, as she was sure she would scream otherwise. He smiled, and wiped an escaped strand of hair from her eyes as a large chunk of flesh was carefully carved from her shoulder. She did not make a sound, nor did she look away from her brothers eyes. She was simply limp, except from her jaw, which was clenched so hard, it was painful for her.

Horatia leaned down and took her other hand, making a chain from Echo, to her, to Octavian. Echo's eyes quickly flew to her Mother, and she managed to muster a reassuring smile. The healer looked up and pulled the flesh, dripping with the pus and blood, into a spare square of linen, wrapping it up. He then took some boiled, sterile linen and washed the wound, which caused Echo to let out a solid breath and breathe heavily. He covered them with a salve, looking relieved. He then packed the slight hole with clean linen and strapped it to her shoulder, before turning to her lesser wounds and treating them with a relieved look on her face. Echo smiled, wearily, attempting to sit up. She fell backwards slightly, before Perseus caught her in his arms and pulled her into him with a strong hug. She fell into him with a smile.

"We were so busy treating Tiberius... I forgot." She said, simply. Perseus nodded. "Never do that to me again, sister." She let out a small chuckle, and he smiled, lifting her to her feet. Octavian helped Horatia to her feet with a strange gleam in his eyes. "You may bathe your daughter in my baths." He said, gesturing to a slave to show them the way. Horatia wrapped an arm around her daughter's waist and tried to pull her forward, but Echo was still strong enough to deny her, looking to Octavian. "May my brother come with us?" Octavian frowned, but then smiled, looking to Horatia and nodded. "You may."

The three got into the baths with no troubles, Echo climbing in with her loincloth and breast band, careful not to get her bandage wet. She looked to her Mother.

"It is time for us to talk, Mother." Echo said, meaningfully. "I want to know about our Father."

Perseus and Echo had already speculated that Pollio was not their real Father, so Perseus nodded and looked to Horatia. She looked to the bath doorway; there was no one, they were alone. She took a deep breath.

"Your father's name is Poseidon. I have rarely seen him since you were born."

Echo frowned. "Mother, Poseidon is a Greek name."

Perseus nodded. "The name of a Greek God, of the sea and water if I remember correctly."

Horatia sighed, looking up to them. "Exactly, little one. Exactly."

Echo frowned. "That makes sense, the woman in the river, she told me something about that." Horatia and Perseus frowned, looking to Echo. "Woman in the river?" Perseus asked, confused. "What? When you went under during the fight?" Echo nodded.

"A woman was there, she said she was a 'naiad'. She gave me the weapons and said they were a gift. From our Father. She also gave me a message for you, Mother. Father said 'It's started.'"

Horatia closed her eyes and bowed her head. "I was afraid so. You are what Poseidon called 'demi-gods'. You have more abilities than other children. You're far more powerful; it's why you are both such good warriors. I'm sorry, I didn't want to tell you until you were ready; otherwise it would attract more of those... Things. And they aren't the worst things that'll be after you."

Perseus frowned. "You're saying we're the reason everyone was attacked today?" Horatia nodded, and Perseus started pacing as Echo got out and started drying herself. "We're the reason Tiberius nearly died?" She said, realisation dawning on her face. Horatia nodded. "You are reason Pollio is dead." She said quietly. Echo spun around. "He's dead?"

Perseus nodded. "He was stabbed in the attack, but we don't know who did it. It was a different weapon from those of the things we fought."

"That would be because it was me."

Echo, with linen wrapped around her, Horatia and Perseus spun around toward the huge baths, where Poseidon was standing upon the steaming water. Horatia started forward, as did Poseidon, taking her into his embrace. He kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry." He whispered, looking up. Poseidon looked toward his children, and walked forward to them. He looked at Echo's bandaged shoulder.

"It will heal fine, Echo. You will survive with nothing but a scar." Echo stepped backward, into her brother's chest. He stepped in front of her protectively. Poseidon didn't look surprised. He looked to his son. The similarities between them were startling; their eyes were exactly the same shade and the shape of their face mirrored each other. Perseus and Poseidon stood with the same gait, strong and proud, protective.

"Do you have your sister's hairclip?" Perseus nodded, and Poseidon held out his hand. Perseus looked to his Father, unsure, before pulling it from the folds of his tunic. Poseidon took it, and walked forward, directly in front of his daughter, grasping her chin gently. Echo, although looking intimidated, did not flinch from his touch. Rather, she found it oddly comforting; a deep felt emotion she had never had toward Pollio affecting her. She smiled slightly as Poseidon put the beautiful hair clip in her long curls. He stepped back, looking at her with satisfaction.

"I'm sorry I could not help more today, I hope my Naiad was sufficient. They aren't under my direct authority, but they have enough respect for me to help me when I need it. I needed to speak with you."

Perseus came forward, frowning. "Why didn't you come sooner? Pollio's been hurting Mother for years! Or today! Why didn't you warn us? We had no idea, no defence before 3 hours ago! My sister nearly died!" He snarled, furious. Poseidon did not flinch, but Horatia rushed toward her son, putting a comforting hand on his chest.

"Perseus!" She said in a commanding tone, Perseus backed off, but his eyes never left Poseidon. His Father sighed, looking down.

"I was unable to warn you, because once you know what you are... Your scent becomes stronger, and then the monsters would have attacked you sooner. I gave you all time I could. As for Pollio..." Poseidon's eyes flashed, literally, a bright blue and the water began to broil slightly. "I got rid of him as soon as I was able. Now, I have to speak to you about why I came here. You need to leave."

At this, all three Romans looked around at him, unable to speak. It was Echo who regained her composure first.

"Leave?" She asked weakly. Poseidon nodded.

"Your Mother and every single one of your friends will be in danger if you stay, including Octavian. There is a place I want to send you. It's called Camp Half Blood. It's a reasonably new initiative, only been going a few decades. Athena created it when we realised you could protect the Gods when we couldn't." Perseus opened his mouth to speak, but Poseidon raised his hand and he closed it again, though looking mutinous. "I know you have questions, but I have to go. My duties call to me. If you go to the Aqua ducts, just outside the city tonight, someone will be waiting for you."

Poseidon put a hand on his son's shoulder. "You will understand. I don't know when I will see you again. Keep your sister safe." Perseus frowned. "I always do. She's just as capable as looking after herself." Poseidon bowed his head. "My apologies." He kissed Echo on the brow, and then Horatia. He walked out toward the water, stepping atop it again, looking over his shoulder one more time, before turning into water mist, the water droplets falling once again into the baths, as if nothing had ever happened.

Hope you enjoyed it! Please review! And once again, Merry Christmas and Happy Yule! 3


	9. A Deep talk and Preparations

_Note: I do not own Percy Jackson, nor any of the characters related to it. I would like to point out, however, that only the invention of Percy Jackson, Camp Half Blood and other half bloods belong to Rick Riordan. The Gods and Monsters belong to the culture of Ancient Greece, a place held in high regard amongst history. I do, however, own both Echo and the Camp of Immortal Heroes. They are of my own invention and I do not wish for any other to use them. I have not profited from this fan fiction._

_I know, I know, you guys HATE me for leaving it for so long. I'm sorry. Life has been hectic; and yes I realise that is always my excuse. I have a new job now (Engineer, GO FIGURE) and I've moved out. So, yes. I SHOULD have more time to write, but I'm not going to promise. I don't want to let you guys down. I love you all for still following!_

Echo sat on the shore, feeling the power of the waves and the setting winter sun empower her. The building was going well; she'd been overseeing it most of the day. The Hades Cabin was now completed, but Echo was concerned about Nico, who seemed restless. He'd been travelling so long, Echo wasn't sure he'd settle in one place now. For the past few days, Percy had been trying to convince him that staying put until he'd had more training was the best option, but she wasn't sure Nico was going to accept it. After all, the kid was more than capable of looking after himself. He'd proved that.

Rachel was settling into her abode, placed a short way from the big house in a manmade cave the Cyclops' had fashioned. She also seemed worried, but her worry was more obvious. Despite her new position as the Oracle, she was still mortal, and therefore still had no choice but to carry on her life in the mortal world; which, for Rachel meant going back to back to a Ladies Finishing School.

Echo sighed, her mind weighed down, watching the sun finally sink below the horizon. They'd still made no progress in who had killed Porkpie, and it was never far from her thoughts. It had been months now, and nothing had happened since the new rules had been put into place. Mr D didn't understand the new rules that had been firmly enforced, but he'd allowed Echo to do it anyway. She rose to her feet, brushing her jeans and orange CHB hooded jacket of sand. Her bare feet took in the cold sand gratefully. She'd never belonged to any place more than she did right here, at Camp Half Blood's beach. She headed away from her refuge to see Percy, watching her. She cocked her head, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her bronzed ear.

"Percy?"

Percy smiled down at her, and waved. He'd got taller since the summer, now taller than she was, and he was hitting the middle of puberty. He supported slight stubble, and had a tiny pimple on his chin, which she thought he might be a little self conscious about. His body was strong and lean, and his hands were now huge. He wore pretty much the same as she, his necklace proud against his collarbone. She admitted that her brother was turning into a very good looking man.

"Alright, Echo?" He asked, curiously. She nodded. "I'm fine, brother. Just a little stressed with the building, and worried, what with Nico, Rachel, the Aphrodite Cabin issues with Drew, the problems the Hephaestus cabin seem to be having, AND that loose dragon wandering about. Nothing is going as smoothly as we hoped." She said, with a shrug. She wandered up to him, and gave him a hug.

"It's good you're back, Perce. I missed you." She murmured. Percy chuckled, and returned the hug.

"Yeah, Echo, I missed you too... Look, I was wondering if you were here. I, well, I need your help. You know… with Annabeth." He said, awkwardly, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Echo gave him an incredulous look.

"Right… Because I clearly know Annabeth as well as you do, Perce. What are you on about?" She asked.

He walked toward the shore, which meant he was more nervous than she'd thought. All Children of Poseidon had been most comfortable by the sea; almost as if they all felt their Father's power engulf them, and make them stronger. He took in a deep breath, and sighed.

"Well, I don't know what to… You know, do. I want to go more than… Kissing and touching... We've got the stage where we've been holding off… You know, I mean… It's been months now… But, I… I don't know what to do, how to do it. I just don't want to mess it up." He said, embarrassed, stammering over his words. Echo's godly vision could pick up his bright red face like a beacon. Echo smiled, giving out a gentle laugh.

"That's half the point, Perce. It's one of the reasons that sharing your first time is so special. It's not just the fact you're sharing yourself, it's the learning curve too. You're learning something amazing together. You're not supposed to know everything at once. She's supposed to tell you what you're doing wrong, and vice versa. You'll both share the most intimate moments with each other. It's… Well, bonding. It's practical teaching on the most sacred level. It's not just a BOOM, done!" She said with a smile, walking up beside him. "Besides, I can assure you the most important thing… Is that Annabeth loves you. The most special part of the entire act, is that it's between you and Annabeth."

Percy looked up, with a slight smile. After a few moments, it turned to a frown again. "But, what if I hurt her? I've heard that it hurts women the first time."

Echo shrugged. "It's mostly overplayed, but it depends entirely on the woman. Don't be worried if there's a little blood, but at the same time, don't worry if there isn't. Sometimes, the hymen breaks from vigorous exercise, and Zeus knows Annabeth does enough of that. Look, it's simple. I can't tell you how. But I can give you a bit of advice, which is simply 'be gentle'. She'll be nervous too. And you… Well, tense when you're nervous, if you know what I mean. Just take it slow and gentle. Eventually, you'll build up." She smiled, before shrugging. "And, don't expect much the first time, either. It's not the 'incredible rush of pleasure' that you hear about until you're more experienced. It's the practise that's fun."

Percy nodded, taking it all in. He seemed far more relaxed now; Echo quickly realised this had been on his mind since he'd come back to camp. She berated herself silently for being too busy to notice.

"So, how is Annabeth? I've only seen her briefly since you two came to camp a few days ago. We haven't managed to catch up, since she's been busy with the building designs." She asked as they both stood on the beach, watching the sea.

Percy shrugged, though a smile touched his lips. "She's Annabeth. Always busy, always thinking. Other than that, I'm not sure. We only see each other on weekends, you know, with being on the opposite ends of Manhattan. But she's still worried about the new Great Prophesy. I can tell she's thinking about it. "

Echo smiled wryly. "Mnm, definitely sounds like Annabeth. There's been about 7 Great Prophesy's in my time, and every single one of them has almost been the end of the world, dear. It also takes a while for them to come into effect, but I'm not going to assume. Annabeth is wise to treat it as though it could happen tomorrow. I'm assuming the same thing." She sighed.

"Come on, let's get to camp. We're getting too deep. I think a good meal, a stupidly loud sing-a-long and a night's sleep would do us both some good, yes? Just think about what I said and stop worrying." She said, with a smile. "Besides, I don't want us getting too depressed. My wedding is tomorrow. You get to see how the Romans got married, and I know you're excited about that."

Percy chuckled with a slight nod. "I hope it's more interesting than normal weddings. I normally fall asleep in those. Oh, and I don't want to sing." He said with a meaningful stare.

Echo winked. "I'm not saying a thing!" She'd refused to tell any of the campers about the wedding, and all those that had looked up Roman weddings (Just the Athena Cabin) were sworn to secrecy. She wanted it to be a novel experience; she'd loved weddings as a kid. She quickly pushed the thoughts of her wedding night away, feeling herself become slightly flushed.

Percy grinned and threw his arm around his elder sister's shoulder. Echo laughed, and hooked one around his waist, and together they wandered back to camp. She genuinely loved Percy. He reminded her of HER Perseus, of her twin. Indeed, the two were so similar; sometimes it made her heart thud oddly in shock. They were brave, gentle, caring, thoughtful, strong, and completely unable to make any sacrifice that involved people they loved. It was their fatal flaw, and she loved them both for it. She always had. Even physically, the only differences were Percy's green eyes, compared to Perseus' blue. Percy was the brother she had lost.

She had been worried about how he'd treat her when she changed, if they'd lose the bond they had gained during the War. But they hadn't. He had treated her in precisely the same way; he made fun of her, protected her against the more judgemental campers, he still treated her as if HE were the elder one. The only time you could tell he was younger was when he would come to her for advice. Echo, in return, would be a more relaxed person when she was with him. She was a naturally serious person, but Percy brought out her more fun side, and she was proud to call him her brother.

Echo knocked on the Athena Cabin door. Her circlet twinkled on her brow in the winter sun, her ice blue eyes shining. Malcolm, a friendly, intelligent boy of 14, answered quickly, looking as though he'd had very little sleep. She cocked her head.

"Everything alright, Malcolm?" She asked, concerned.

He nodded slightly, his brown eyes drooping slightly. "Yeah, just calculating some physics for my paper. I've been taking extra classes, and Annabeth's been helping me understand it. I've got it, but now I want to do it all at once. Good news is I'm almost done."

Echo smiled gently, rolling her eyes. "Oh, Malcolm…" She said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Speaking of Annabeth, is she inside?" Malcolm nodded, with a light blush, and stepped aside to let her in. Annabeth was curled up, still fully clothed, napping. Echo grinned, looking down at her fondly. "Has she been sleeping long?" She whispered.

Malcolm nodded. "The past 8 or 9 hours. She told me to wake her up after an hour, but she was exhausted. She's going to kill me, but she's only human. She can't survive with such little sleep."

Echo chuckled. "Well, Malcolm, take your own advice and get some sleep. Your physics will come along a lot faster if you give your brain a rest. Now, go on… Into your bunk." Malcolm looked as though he was going to argue; it was about 5 in the evening. "I'll bring you some food myself in a few hours. I promise." She said, with a laugh. "Ham and chips, it's your favourite, right? Just go to sleep."

Malcolm hesitated, but then smiled and climbed onto his bunk, and closed his eyes. Echo had waited about 5 minutes when his breathing evened out, and before long he was fast asleep. Echo chuckled. She regularly had these kinds of arguments with the Athena Cabin members, and as such, she'd come to know all of them quite well. As a matter of fact, she knew pretty much every camper that attended Camp Half Blood, especially the year-rounder's, but she endeavoured to get to know all the new campers too. She wanted to govern the camp through respect, not fear… Something her brother had taught her, a long time ago.

She sat down, alongside Annabeth and gently shook the girl awake. Annabeth began to mumble, attempting to get away from Echo's intruding hand. Eventually, the stormy grey eyes opened, trying to focus on Echo. She shook her head, and sat up, running slender fingers through her long, wavy blonde hair.

"Agh. How long have I been sleeping? Where's Malcolm?" She asked, her voice croaky with sleep.

Echo gestured up to Malcolm's bunk. "I've only just convinced him to sleep; you've been asleep for most of the day. It's about 5 in the evening, sweetheart. Come on, I need your help with something."

Annabeth growled slightly in frustration, flopping down on her bed. "I had things to do today! I had to finish designing the Heca-" Echo lifted a hand to stop her.

"The building has now been held off for the next couple of days. Don't tell me you forgot the wedding tomorrow?" Echo said, her eyes creasing in amusement. Annabeth blinked, before smiling a little. "No, but I didn't know it was so soon… I've been busy." She said, slightly sheepishly.

Echo shrugged, standing up. "Now, you have to help me. I have the Aphrodite cabin on the job, but I want your opinion." Annabeth groaned slightly.

"Wait, if the Aphrodite cabin is involved, it means it's something to do with what you're wearing. You know I'm not good at that…" She muttered, laying a hand over her eyes.

"You're one of my best friends, Annabeth, age difference aside. If I'm getting married in this, I want your opinion. Besides, you've finished your gift for your mother, haven't you?"

Annabeth's face lit up. "Yes, the cabin finished their papers the other day, though Malcolm was struggling with the physics. I still don't know how you managed to persuade Zeus and the other gods."

Echo had returned to Olympus upon an idea for the camp. On the day of her wedding, each God would come down and be presented a gift from their children. For the Gods that had no children, the entire camp banded together. It had been hard convincing Zeus, sure, but it she had presented the same reasoning Percy had when the War had been won. Seeing their children would cement the relationship between Gods and Demi-Gods; and Demi-Gods would be far less likely to turn upon their parents. After a few hours of coaxing and reasoning, and a little help from Athena, Apollo, Poseidon and, surprisingly, Hestia, they managed to convince the King of the Gods.

"So, are you coming?" Echo asked, rising from her seat on the bed. Annabeth sighed and nodded.

"If it means that much to you, Echo, of course I will."

Echo grinned and clapped her hands happily in a rare loss of control. "I'll give you five minutes to freshen up! I'll be waiting outside."

Annabeth smiled at Echo; it warmed her to see the Warrior she'd come to respect so much act like a mortal. Annabeth had very rarely seen Echo smile during the War, much less laugh or be merry. The only time she'd ever really seen Echo express emotion had been to do with Percy, or a death. Now, she could barely contain her excitement, despite the problems the camp had been facing.

Annabeth watched Echo walk out of the Athena Cabin and then headed to the Bathroom with a change of clothes. She splashed some water on her face and began to smile without even realising what she was doing; a memory of Percy had leapt into her mind. She blushed slightly, and shook her head, brushing the thoughts away while she ran a comb through her tangles. She took a deep breath, and looked at her reflection in the mirror, before turning away and walking out to Echo, who looked at her and beamed.

Together, they made their way to the big house. Curfew had been revoked for the evening, though Councillors had been warned to keep a close eye on their siblings. The Harpy's were guarding the stables and the woods, under Echo's command. The big house was currently derelict; most people were at dinner. That evening, preparation would finalize, and the camp would sleep in the next morning and wake to prepare for the ceremony in the afternoon. The Aphrodite cabin had been working on outfits for an entire month; everyone in the Camp had their own personalised outfit. Echo had worried she had put too much responsibility on the Aphrodite cabin, but they had taken the challenge and dove into it headfirst. Echo guessed they were glad of the distraction; something to keep their minds from their fallen councillor, Silena, and their dominating new councillor, Drew.

The Demeter cabin had already been at the Big House; massive creeping vines of Honeysuckle spread across its walls. Large vases of clay spilled out beautiful flowers; roses, jasmine and lavender being just a few, infecting the air with their subtle musk.

Echo quickly pulled Annabeth up to her own room. Annabeth was startled. She'd never been in Echo's room before, and was amazed to see the Roman set up. The couch, incense burner, chests, mosaic floor and even the tapestry depicting the Gemini on the wall was authentic. Annabeth looked around in wonder.

"It's… It's completely amazing, Echo!" Echo looked to the young girl and smiled. "This room is a replica of my own when I was young." She gestured to Annabeth, and pointed out a marble bust. Annabeth walked over to it, and touched the woman's eyes, the contours of her face, the lips, the long flowing hair… She knew who it was before Echo told her.

"That's my Mother. A very accurate depiction, actually, ordered by Octavian himself. I came into possession of it not so long ago, but I could never bear to part with it now. It means too much. Her name was Horatia. She was an amazing woman, in more ways than one. She had only 3 lovers. One was my Father, the other was her husband, my… Stepfather and Octavian himself. After Pollio died… Octavian took her as a lover, and allowed her to be an unmarried woman because of his affection for her. It was a rare thing at the time. Of course, we couldn't visit her often."

Annabeth smiled slightly. She had read about the Roman times, although she disagreed with a lot of it, but it always intrigued her to hear Echo talk about her past. She wondered what it was like to live for as long as Echo had. "What was she like?" She asked quietly, not averting her eyes from this long lost woman's face.

Echo chuckled and sat on her couch demurely. "She was kind, caring… Protective. She was intelligent, though the intelligence of a woman was wasted back then. And she was beautiful, Annabeth. That depiction simply doesn't do it justice. She had this… Aura. Self assured, confident, but burdened. She suffered for a long time, whilst with my Stepfather. Pollio, his name was." She said, speaking his name with barely disguised venom. "He would do unspeakable things to her. He was a despicable man, and I hope he's spent his afterlife in Tartarus for what he did. She could see through the mist. But most of all… She loved my Father more than anything in the world, apart from maybe me and my brother."

Annabeth span around in shock. "You had a brother?" Echo looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. "Yes. My twin."

Annabeth watched Echo's face, which had become a mask; hiding what she truly felt, Annabeth knew. She'd stepped upon something, and she knew it. "What was his name?" She asked, cautiously.

"Perseus." She said, looking up. Suddenly, Annabeth understood the bond between Percy and Echo, though she was certain Percy had no clue.

"Where is he now?" She asked, frowning slightly.

Echo rose from her seat. Her relaxed composure was gone, and in its place came the regal aloof expression. Annabeth's heart constricted. There was more to this story and it was painful. Curiosity burned within her. "He's gone. I don't want to talk about this anymore, Annabeth. Come."

She walked into an adjacent room and there, stood proudly in the middle of the little room, was a beautiful gown. It was obviously Roman, but also had more modern twists to it. The fabric must have been enchanted, because as the breeze blew it, it shone in every colour of the rainbow, but the effect was subtle. It put Annabeth in mind of a more regal, pure version of Circe's dress. There was a beautiful headdress, golden with patterns of seashell's and other sea creatures. It was beautifully crafted; a present from Hephaestus cabin, Annabeth guessed. It had tiny green buds dotted around it, waiting for the Demeter cabin to open them.

Beside that was a beautiful mantle that was to be draped around Echo's shoulders; a Palla. It was an item of clothing that only married women were allowed to wear in roman society. It was made of a beautiful golden fur that Annabeth couldn't quite place. Annabeth looked over to Echo, who was leaning casually in the door way, watching her intently, all signs of tense thoughts forgotten. Annabeth smiled, and walked over, embracing her.

"Echo, its perfect."

_I hope it was good enough for you guys! You guys are awesome. I hope to update soon!_


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